“Why, you are not going down like that—are you?” said Mr Solomon.
“I always do go down like that,” said the man with a laugh. “How should you go down-head first?”
“No,” cried Mr Solomon angrily; “but with a rope fastened to my waist, and a couple of men to hold it.”
“D’yer think I’m a baby?” said the plumber, “or a little child?”
“Worse,” said Mr Solomon shortly. “You can make them do what’s right.”
“Tchah! I know what I’m about, just as well as you know how to bud roses.”
“I dare say you do,” said Mr Solomon sternly; “but that well’s got a lot of foul gas in it, and you’re not going down without a rope to hold you.”
“Rubbish!” said the plumber, laughing; “I am.”
“And who’s going to use the water agen if you’re drowned in it?” said Ike seriously. “It’ll be all full o’ white-lead and putty, and kill the plarnts!”
“You’re very clever,” said the plumber sharply; “but just mind your own business.”