the taproom. And then he began again about the folly of young men getting into the company of recruiting sergeants.
“Look here,” said the Don, confidentially, “take my advice—say nothing—a still tongue makes a wise head; to persuade a man not to enter the army is tantamount to advising him to desert. If you don’t mind, you may lay yourself open to a prosecution.”
“Zounds!” exclaimed Mr. Bumpkin, “it seem to me a man in Lunnon be every minit liable to a prosecution for zummat. I hope sayin’ that beant contempt o’ Coourt, sir.”
Mr. O’Rapley was silent—his head drooped towards Mr. Bumpkin in a semi-conscious manner, and he nodded three consecutive times: called for another “seroot,” lit it after many efforts, and again assuring Mr. Bumpkin that he would do all he could towards facilitating his triumph over Snooks, was about to depart, when his friend asked him, confidentially, whether he had not better be at the Old Bailey when the trial came on, in case of its being necessary to call him.
“Shurel not!” hiccupped the Don. Then he pointed his finger, and leering at Bumpkin, repeated, “Shurel not;—jus swell cll Ch. Jussiself”—which being interpreted meant, “Certainly not, you might just as well call the Chief Justice himself.”
“Pr’aps he’ll try un?” said Bumpkin.
“Noer won’t—noer won’t: Chansy Juge mos likel Massr Rolls.”
CHAPTER XXV.
In spite of all warnings, Joe takes his own part, not to be persuaded on one side or the other—affecting scene between Mr. Bumpkin and his old servant.
“Whatever can that there shoutin’ be for, Mrs. Oldtimes—they be terrible noisy.”