“Don’t bother me about your things: go down, if it’s so early, and come back and call me at the proper time.”
“Yes, sir; cert’nly, sir,” said the man, stealing a glance at himself in the looking-glass, and then standing examining his pith helmet as he held it upon his outstretched hand.
“Well, then, why don’t you go?” cried Jack. “I was a-thinking, sir. I say, as you are awake, and there’s plenty of time, why don’t you try on some of your noo things?”
“Bah! because I don’t want to make myself ridiculous,” said the lad peevishly.
“You wouldn’t look ridiculous, sir. You try ’em, and if I was you I’d go down to breakfast in ’em. Sir John would be as pleased as Punch to see you begin to take a little more interest in going.”
“Look here!” cried Jack, springing from his pillow to sit upright in bed, “when I want any of your advice, sir, I will ask for it. Such impertinence!”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, but I only thought you might like to do what Sir John would wish to see. I put ’em all straight last night, and laid a suit of tweeds, with knickerbockers, brown plaid worsted stockings, and high-laced brown shooting-boots, all ready for you.”
“Then it was like your insolence, sir.”
“Yes, sir, and the boots are lovely, sir; just the thing! Stout strong water-tights as lace on right to the knee. Leather’s as soft as velvet. They’ll be grand for you when you’re going through the jungle where there’s leeches and poisonous snakes.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated the boy with a shudder.