“I beg your pardon,” said Jaques, “they are apples.”
“I say they’re pears,” said the old lady, testily. “How many have you?”
“Eight,” said Jaques.
“Well, and isn’t that four pairs? I always like to buy them pared; it saves knives and trouble,” said she. “It’s a pity that a boy like you should be a beggar.”
“I’m not a beggar,” said Jaques.
“Didn’t you beg my pardon?”
“Yes.”
“Those who beg are beggars, that’s sure,” said she.
COURTEOUS.
Just at this moment a policeman came up. He took off his helmet, and making a low bow, said, “I heard the word beg. May I take the great liberty of inquiring whether any one has thought proper to beg? and if so, from whom, and for what? If for anything real, good and well; but if merely from politeness or courtesy, then to be visited with the utmost severity of the law.”