‘There’s some kernel in those songs, brother,’ said Mr. Petulengro, when the songs and music were over.
‘Yes,’ said I, ‘they are certainly very remarkable songs. I say, Jasper, I hope you have not been drabbing baulor [47a] lately.’
‘And suppose we have, brother, what then?’
‘Why, it is a very dangerous practice, to say nothing of the wickedness of it.’
‘Necessity has no law, brother.’
‘That is true,’ said I, ‘I have always said so, but you are not necessitous, and should not drab baulor.’
‘And who told you we had been drabbing baulor?’
‘Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and after the banquet Mrs. Chikno sang a song about drabbing baulor, so I naturally thought you might have lately been engaged in such a thing.’
‘Brother, you occasionally utter a word or two of common-sense. It was natural for you to suppose, after seeing that dinner of pork, and hearing that song, that we had been drabbing baulor; I will now tell you that we have not been doing so. What have you to say to that?’
‘That I am very glad of it.’