“Haven't?” said Mr. Hobbs, anxiously. “Well, say markises then—or dooks.”
“I know of no such book,” answered the clerk.
Mr. Hobbs was much disturbed. He looked down on the floor,—then he looked up.
“None about female earls?” he inquired.
“I'm afraid not,” said the clerk with a smile.
“Well,” exclaimed Mr. Hobbs, “I'll be jiggered!”
He was just going out of the store, when the clerk called him back and asked him if a story in which the nobility were chief characters would do. Mr. Hobbs said it would—if he could not get an entire volume devoted to earls. So the clerk sold him a book called “The Tower of London,” written by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and he carried it home.
When Dick came they began to read it. It was a very wonderful and exciting book, and the scene was laid in the reign of the famous English queen who is called by some people Bloody Mary. And as Mr. Hobbs heard of Queen Mary's deeds and the habit she had of chopping people's heads off, putting them to the torture, and burning them alive, he became very much excited. He took his pipe out of his mouth and stared at Dick, and at last he was obliged to mop the perspiration from his brow with his red pocket handkerchief.
“Why, he aint safe!” he said. “He aint safe! If the women folks can sit up on their thrones an' give the word for things like that to be done, who's to know what's happening to him this very minute? He's no more safe than nothing! Just let a woman like that get mad, an' no one's safe!”
“Well,” said Dick, though he looked rather anxious himself; “ye see this 'ere un isn't the one that's bossin' things now. I know her name's Victory, an' this un here in the book, her name's Mary.”