"But, father, you don't mean to say you let the room to him, without knowing his name?"
"But I didn't let the room to him," said Mr. Jones; "it was he took it."
"Well, that's queer!" said Mary.
"Queer! I call it more than queer!" exclaimed the grocer, now turning indignant at the treatment he had received; "but he shan't sleep in it, though, till I've got his references, I can tell him."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when into the shop again walked the stranger.
"My name is Joseph Saunders," he said, briefly, "and if you want to know more, apply to Mr. Smithson, number thirteen, in the alley hard by. He'll give you all the particulars."
Having delivered which piece of information, he once more vanished. Well, there was nothing to say to this; and Mr. Jones, who had an inquisitive temper, was preparing to dart off to Mr. Smithson's, who did indeed live hard by, when Mr. Joseph Saunders once more appeared.
"P'r'aps you'd like the first week," he said; and without waiting for a reply, he laid four shillings down on the counter, and again disappeared —this time to return no more. Mary was very much struck.
"He looks quite superior," she said, "quite. Saunders—Joseph Saunders! what a nice name."
"That's all very well," replied her father, sweeping the four shillings into the till, "but I must have a word or two to say with Mr. Smithson— for all that his name is Joseph Saunders."