“Neither would I,” added the doctor, “for a thousand guineas.”
“I’ll tell ye wot it is, lads,” remarked Tim Rokens; “I wish I only had a crumb to sell.”
“Now, Rokens, don’t be greedy,” cried Gurney.
“Greedy!” echoed Tim.
“Ay, greedy; has any o’ you lads got a dickshunairy to lend him? Come, Jim Scroggles, you can tell him what it means—you’ve been to school, I believe, hain’t you?”
Rokens shook his head gravely.
“No, lad, I’m not greedy, but I’m ready for wittles. I won’t go fur to deny that. Now, let me ax ye a question. Wot—supposin’ ye had the chance—would ye give, at this good min’it, for a biled leg o’ mutton?”
“With or without capers-sauce?” inquired Gurney.
“W’ichever you please.”
“Och! we wouldn’t need capers-sarse,” interposed Briant; “av we only had the mutton, I’d cut enough o’ capers meself to do for the sarce, I would.”