“Is he your father?”
“No, madam, he is my uncle; he is not married.”
“Your uncle. Well, I have a pair of scissors to grind, and I will go for them: you may bring your wheel in here, as I wish to see how you grind.”
“Certainly, miss, with the greatest pleasure.”
Joey brought in his wheel, and observing that Miss Mathews had left her book on the seat, he opened it at the marked page and slipped the letter in; and scarcely had done so, when he perceived Miss Mathews and her cousin coming towards him.
“Here are the scissors; mind you make them cut well.”
“I will do my best, miss,” replied Joey, who immediately set to work.
“Have you been long at this trade?” said Miss Mathews.
“No, miss, not very long.”
“And your uncle, has he been long at it?”