“What, mustard would?” said Mike, who was quite ready to discuss anything not relating to the visit to old Daygo.
“Yes; mustard would.”
“Nonsense. How do you know?”
“Father says so, and he knows all about those sort of things, including salts and senna. So now, then, old Ladle, you’ve got to get up and come and take your dose.”
“Then I shan’t take it to-day.”
“And have old Joe come to us! Why, it would be disgraceful. You’ve got to come.”
“Have I?” grumbled Mike; “then I shan’t.”
“’Day, young gen’lemen!”
Mike leaped to his feet in horror, and Vince pulled himself up in a sitting position, to stare wonderingly at the old fellow, who had come silently up over the yielding turf.
“You?” said Mike: “you’ve come?”