“Don’t talk to me, sir; I don’t care if it was two o’clock, or twelve o’clock, or twenty-four o’clock. I say that slip’s a disgrace to you; and for two pins, sir—for two pins I’d have it framed and stuck up for the men to see. Be off and correct it.—Now, then, what do you want?”
This was to me, and I was terribly awe-stricken at the fierce aspect of the speaker, whose forehead was now of a lively pink.
“If you please, sir, I saw that you wanted boys, and—”
“No; I don’t want boys,” he raved. “I’m sick of the young monkeys; but I’m obliged to have them.”
“I am sorry, sir—” I faltered.
“Oh yes; of course. Here, stop! where are you going?”
“Please, sir, you said you didn’t want any boys.”
“You’re very sharp, ain’t you? Now hold your tongue, and then answer what I ask and no more. What are you—a machine boy or reader?”
“If you please, sir, I—I don’t know—I thought—I want—”
“Confound you; hold your tongue!” he roared. “Where did you work last?”