“First rate,” said I; “bonneting is more profitable than reviewing.”
“Anan?” said the man.
“Or translating; I don’t think the Armenian would have paid me at that rate for translating his Esop.”
“Who is he?” said the man.
“Esop?”
“No, I know what that is, Esop’s cant for a hunchback; but t’other?”
“You should know,” said I.
“Never saw the man in all my life.”
“Yes, you have,” said I, “and felt him too; don’t you remember the individual from whom you took the pocket-book?”
“Oh, that was he; well, the less said about that matter the better; I have left off that trade, and taken to this, which is a much better. Between ourselves, I am not sorry that I did not carry off that pocket-book; if I had, it might have encouraged me in the trade, in which, had I remained, I might have been lagged, sent abroad, as I had been already imprisoned; so I determined to leave it off at all hazards, though I was hard up, not having a penny in the world.”