"Whatever you ask, only be quick about it."
"It won't tax you much, you have only to make over to me all the bottles and jars you have in the house."
"Take them, and welcome."
"If you'll promise me not to meddle with them, I'll leave them in your keeping, only they're mine, remember."
"Every drop," cried the Squire, eagerly. "I won't touch another mouthful."
"That's all right; you keep your word and I'll keep mine; there, you may have the use of your fist once more," he continued, as he plucked out the other spur, giving the released hand a parting kick that thrilled through every joint.
"And now," said he, as he pulled on his tiny boots, "I have a word or two more to say to you; you made a foolish wish just now; that you'd like to change places with that miserable cobbler over the way; are you still of the same way of thinking?"
"Should I have your companionship there," inquired Bulworthy.
"Certainly not; he couldn't afford to keep me," replied the gout-fiend, contemptuously.
"Then, without meanin' the slightest offence to you, my little friend," said the other, "it wouldn't grieve me much to get rid of your acquaintance at any sacrifice, even to the disgust of walking into that rascally cobbler's shoes. I'm only afraid that, clever as you are, you can't manage that for me."