“No sir; on’y wish I was. Just came up to see if the gardener’s about, and he’d give me a job.”
“You know he wouldn’t,” I said. “The Doctor will not have you about the place again.”
“And it’s very hard,” he whined. “Everybody’s agen me, and takes ’vantage of me, even young gents as owes me money and won’t pay.”
“Why, who owes you money, Magg?”
“You do, sir; four shillin’, which I wouldn’t ask you for, but—”
“I don’t, Magg; I paid you everything I owed you,” cried Mercer.
“Oh no, sir; don’t you go for to say that which you know aren’t true. It’s four shillin’, and I wouldn’t have asked you, only I’m that hungry as never was.”
“But I don’t owe you anything; do I, Frank?”
“No; he paid you,” I said.
“Oh, sir! Master Burr junior knows as it’s wicked to tell a lie. I likes mates to stick up for one another, but it ain’t right to get a trampling down of the pore. Do pay me, Master Tom Mercer. It’s four shillin’.”