To this Martha replied, “Fiddlesticks;” and said that she didn’t believe in the friendship of people who were always fighting and making it up again; that for her part she would rather have no friends at all, she wouldn’t; and that she had a settled conviction, she had, that Isaac Dorkin would come to a bad end at last.
“I hope not, Martha; but in the meantime he has bin the means of gettin’ me some work to do that is quite to my liking.”
“What may that be, John?” asked Mrs Potter in surprise.
“I’ll tell you when we’re at supper,” said John with a smile; for he knew from experience that his better half was in a fitter state to swallow unpleasant news when engaged in swallowing her meals than at any other time.
“Where is Tommy?” he added, looking round at the quantity of chips which littered the floor.
“Where is ’e?” repeated Mrs Potter, in a tone of indignation. “Where would you expect ’im to be but after mischief? ’E’s at the mod’l, of course; always at it; never at hanythingk else a’most.”
“No!” exclaimed John, in affected surprise. “Wasn’t he at school to-day?”
“O yes, of course ’e was at school.”
“An’ did he git his lessons for to-morrow after comin’ ’ome?”
“I suppose ’e did.”