“I'm feelin' a trifle graidelier than I ha' done,” he answered, oracularly. “Things is lookin' up.”
“I'm main glad to hear it. Tell us as how.”
“Well,”—with studied indifference,—“it's noan so great luck i' comparison, but it's summat to be thankfu' fur to a mon as is down i' th' world. I've getten the lodge-keeper's place at Mr. Haviland's.”
“Tha' nivver says! Who'd a' thowt it? How ivver did that coom about?”
“Friends i' coort,” with dignity. “Friends i' coort. Hond me that jug o' ale, Tummy. Haviland's a mon o' discretion, if he is a Member o' Parlyment. We've had quoite a friendly chat this mornin' as we set i' th' loibery together. He is na so bad i' his pollytics after aw's said an' done. He'll do, upo' th' whole.”
“Yo' stood up to him free enow, I warrant,” said Tummy. “Th' gentle folk dunnot often hear sich free speakin' as yo' gi' 'em, Sammy.”
“Well, I had to be a bit indypendent; it wur nat'ral. It would na ha' done to ha' turnt soft, if he wur th' mester an' me th' mon. But he's a mon o' sense, as I say, an' he wur civil enow, an' friendly enow. He's getten gumption to see as pollytics is pollytics. I'll tell yo' what, lads, I'm comin' to th' opinion as happen theer's more sense i' some o' th' gentry than we gi' em credit fur; they ha' not mich but book larnin i' their heads, it's true, but they're noan so bad—some on 'em—if yo're charytable wi' 'em.”
“Who was thy friend i' coort, Sammy?” was asked next.
Sammy's fist went down upon the table with a force which made the mugs dance and rattle.
“Now tha'rt comin' to the meat i' th' egg.” he said. “Who should tha think it wur 'at had th' good-will an' th' head to tak' th' business i' hond?”