“Are you happy now?” I inquired.
“Well,” said he, candidly, “I couldn't say as I was exactly 'umped; but it ain't all bottled beer sittin' in this bloomin' arm-chair with your whiskers froze stiff, and the 'orses' ears out o' sight in the fog. And there ain't much variety in it, nor much chance of becomin' a millionaire. Hoften and hoften I thinks to myself, 'What O for a pair o' trousers to fold, and a good fire in the servants' 'all, and hinderpendence be blowed!'”
I think it was at this moment that an inspiration came into my head. It was rash, you will doubtless think.
“I 'ope so, sir,” said he, with becoming modesty and evident surprise.
“And now you are experienced?”
“Well, sir,” he said, “you've 'ad threepence worth o' this 'ere 'bus, and you 'aven't seed me scrape off no paint yet.”
“But, I mean, you are experienced in folding trousers, in packing shirts, in varnishing boots, in all the niceties of your old profession, are you not? You would do credit to a gentleman if he should engage you?”