“Not he.”
“Then how did he get that cut on the head?” said the housemaid.
“I know,” cried cook triumphantly.
“How?”
“Climbing the wall after a cat, and then he tumbled off on to the bricks.”
“Oh!” ejaculated the housemaid, snatching at the explanation.
“Wrong,” said John Season, untying and retying his blue serge apron, as a necessity after his hearty meal.
“Then, pray how was it, Mr Clever?” said cook.
“He’d been interfering with master in the dark. Didn’t know him, I s’pose; and master give him a polt with a stick.”
“Oh!” ejaculated the housemaid.