James (half opening the door). Get about your own business, you imperent boy!
Bill. I'm about it now, young man. I wants to see your gov'nor.
James. You've got business with him, have you, eh?
Bill. Amazin' precoxity! You've hit it! I have got business with him, Door-post—not in the wery smallest with you, Door-post!—essep' the knife-boy's been and neglected of your feet-bags this mornin'. (JAMES would slam the door. BILL shoves in his stool.) Don't you try that 'ere little game again, young man! for if I loses my temper and takes to hollerin', you'll wish yourself farther.
James. A humbug you are! I 'ain't got no gov'nor, boy. The master as belongs to me is a mis'ess.
Bill. Then that 'ere gen'lemen as comes an' goes, ain't your master—eh?
James. What gen'leman, stoopid?
Bill. Oh! it don't matter.
James. What have—you—got to say to him?
Bill. Some'at pickled: it'll keep.