"A very beautiful lady—young, with hair—eyes—"
"W'y, she may 'ave 'ad heyes an' she might 'ave 'ad 'air—likewise she may not—she may ha' been as bald as a coot an' as blind as a mole for all I see—"
"That'll do, my lad, that'll do! But she was young, wasn't she?"
"'Ow should I know?" exclaimed the ostler, his manner losing all respect as he observed Anthony's general down-at-heel appearance. "I didn't think to open 'er mouth nor yet ob-serve 'er teeth—"
"That'll do, my lad, that'll do—"
"Oh, will it an' all—why then, git out o' this yere yard. Who are you t' ax questions—out wi' ye an' quick's the word!" Saying which, the tall ostler approached in a very dangerous and threatening fashion; but even as he moved, so moved Anthony, only infinitely quicker, and lo! in place of large, scowling visage were two large hobnailed shoes that wavered uncertainly aloft in air while their owner rolled upon a pile of stable sweepings.
"That was what Natty Bell would call 'one to go on with!'"
"Lorramity!" gasped the ostler, sitting up and glancing about in dazed fashion. "Lorramity—that's done it, that 'as!"
"If it hasn't, we'll try another!" suggested Anthony in cheery tone.
"By cripes!" exclaimed the ostler, taking up a handful of stable sweepings in an aimless sort of manner. "That was a one-er, that was!"