“Jimmy isn’t dirty,” I said; “and he can’t help being black any more than you can being white.”
“I wonder at a well-brought-up young gent like you bemeaning yourself to associate with such a low creature, Master Joseph.”
“Jimmy’s a native gentleman, nurse,” I said.
“Gentleman, indeed!” cried the old lady, “as goes about without a bit of decent clothes to his back.”
“So did Adam, nursey,” I said laughing.
“Master Joseph, I won’t sit here and listen to you if you talk like that,” cried the old lady; “a-comparing that black savage to Adam! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. It all comes of living in this horrible place. I wish we were back at Putney.”
“Hang Putney!” I cried. “Putney, indeed! where you couldn’t go half a yard off a road without trespassing. Oh, nurse, you can’t understand it,” I cried enthusiastically; “if you were to get up in the dark one morning and go with Jimmy—”
“Me go with Jimmy!” cried the old lady with a snort.
“And get right out towards the mountain and see the sunrise, and the parrots in flocks, and the fish glancing like arrows down the silver river—”
“There’s just how your poor dear pa used to talk, and nearly broke your poor ma’s heart.”