"Lick up! Lick up!" barked the Cap'n. "I'm payin' for a quick ride and not conversation."
Brackett clapped the reins along his nag's skinny flank, set his elbows on his knees, and began:
"There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight,
To Newry Corner, in—"
"Luff, luff!" snorted the Cap'n, in disgust.
"Luff, luff?" queried the songster.
"Yes, luff! Avast! Belay! Heave to! I don't like caterwaulin'. You keep your mind right on drivin' that hoss."
"You must have been a pop'lar man all your life," remarked the peddler, with a baleful side-glance. "Does politeness come nat'ral to you, or did you learn it out of a book?"
The Cap'n made no reply. He only hitched himself forward as though trying to assist the momentum of the cart, and clutched his buckets, one in each hand.
A woman came flying out of the first house they passed and squalled:
"Where's the fire, Mr. Brackett, and is anybody burnt up, and hadn't you jest as liv' take my rags now? I've got 'em all sacked and ready to weigh, and I sha'n't be to home after to-day."