“Please, what did you say, master?” whined the boy.
“I can be a regular savage when I like—can’t I?” shouted Dick.
“Yes, master.—Please, master, I’m so hungry.”
“So what?”
“So hungry, please, master.”
“Hungry? Why, the boy’s mad!” cried Dick, looking up in mock astonishment. “How dare you, sir? Hungry, indeed! There, take that wax-out of your mouth. You’re always trying to ruin me by eating the wax or chewing leather.”
“I can’t help it, master,” said the boy. “Please, I’m so hungry.”
“Hungry!” exclaimed Dick, with mock heroic diction. “Brought up, too, as you were, at one of the first workhouses in the kingdom!”
“Please, master, I can’t help it,” said the boy. “I feel so hollow inside.”
“Hollow? Nonsense, sir! It’s bad tendencies, or desire for gluttony and wine-bibbing. And after I’ve been such a good master to you!”