"Your dog's tail!" exclaimed the man, "what do you mean? Is it this ragged mangy thing you would have?" and the man took the tail of Snarleyyow, and held it up to the view of the assembled crowd.
"Yes," replied Vanslyperken, coming towards the man with eagerness; "that is what I want," and he held out his hand to receive it.
"And pray, may I ask," replied the other, looking very suspiciously at Vanslyperken, "what can you want with this piece of carrion?"
"To make soup of," replied another, laughing; "he can't afford ox-tail."
Vanslyperken made an eager snatch at his treasure; but the man lifted it up on the other side, out of his reach.
"Let us have a look at this chap," said the first, examining Vanslyperken, whose peaked nose and chin, small ferret eyes, and downcast look were certainly not in his favour; neither were his old and now tattered habiliments. Certainly no one would have taken Vanslyperken for a king's officer--unfortunately they took him for something else.
"Now tell me, fellow, what were you going to do with this?" inquired the man in a severe tone.
"I sha'n't tell you," replied Vanslyperken.
"Why that's the chap that I sees go in and out of the room where that old hell-fire witch lives, who curses all day long."
"I thought as much," observed the man, who still held up the cur's tail. "Now I appeal to you all, what can a fellow want with such as this--ay, my good people, and want it so much too, as to risk being torn to pieces for it--if he arn't inclined to evil practices?"