“Well, what do you say, Sim?” said the landlord, with a wink at his other guests, as much as to say, “Let’s draw him out.”
“Say!” cried Sim; “why, that Dick Glaire’s a lungeing villin. Look at him: a man fixed in business as he is, and plenty o’ money, and he knows nowt but nastiness. He ought to be hung.”
“Where weer you to-day, Sim?” said another. “I didn’t see thee helping.”
“Helping!” said Sim; “why, I was in the thicket all day. Search indeed! what’s the good o’ searching for what aint theer?”
“Do you know wheer she is?” said the landlord.
“If yow want to know wheer Daisy Banks is, ask Dicky Glaire, and—”
“And what?” said several, for Sim had stopped short.
“And he wean’t tell yow,” said Sim. “He knows, though. Why, he’s been mad after the lass for months; and if she weer my bairn, I’d half kill him; that’s what I’d do wi’ him. He’s a bad lot, and it’s a pity as Dumford can’t get shoot of him. Such rubbish! he’s ony fit to boon the roads.”
“Well, Sim,” said the grocer, “when they make you boon master, you can use him up o’ purpose.”
“Hello!” said Sim, “what! are yow here? I thowt as the Bull and Cowcumber wasn’t good enew for such as thee.”