It was Algernon, upon a livery-stable hack. His countenance expressed a mighty disappointment.
The farmer saw no one. The ingratitude and treachery of Robert, and of Mrs. Sumfit and Master Gammon, kept him brooding in sombre disgust of life. He remarked that the cart jolted a good deal.
“If you goes in a cart, wi' company o' four, you expects to be jolted,” said Master Gammon.
“You seem to like it,” Robert observed to the latter.
“It don't disturb my in'ards,” quoth the serenest of mankind.
“Gammon,” the farmer addressed him from the front seat, without turning his head: “you'll take and look about for a new place.”
Master Gammon digested the recommendation in silence. On its being repeated, with, “D' ye hear?” he replied that he heard well enough.
“Well, then, look about ye sharp, or maybe, you'll be out in the cold,” said the farmer.
“Na,” returned Master Gammon, “ah never frets till I'm pinched.”
“I've given ye notice,” said the farmer.