“Let us say Camden Town, for instance—nice healthy neighbourhood and remarkably quiet. You could come every morning by ’bus, or if you preferred it, by rail; and if by rail, you could take a season ticket, which would be much cheaper; a six months’ ticket, again, being cheaper than a three months’ ticket.”
“In the name o’ Heaven, sir,” exclaimed Mrs. Bumpkin, “be this ’ere thing gwine on for ever?”
Mr. Prigg smiled benignly, as much as to say, “You ladies are so impatient, so innocent of the business of life.”
“It seems to me, Mr. Prigg, one need live to be as old as thic there Mackthusaler to bring a law-suit now-a-days.”
“Now, look at that!” broke in Joe, “it’s made master look forty year older aready.”
“So it have, Joe,” rejoined the mistress; “I wish it could be chucked up altogether.”
Mr. Prigg benignantly shook his head.
“D’ye think I be gwine to give in to thic sniggerin’ Snooks feller?” asked Mr. Bumpkin. “Not if I knows it. Why thic feller goo sniggerin’ along th’ street as though he’d won; and he ’ave told lots o’ people how he’ll laugh I out o’ Coourt—his counsel be gwine to laugh I out o’ Coourt becors I be a country farmer.”
“Right can’t be laughed out of Court, sir,” said the excellent Prigg, solemnly.
“Noa, noa, right bean’t asheamed, goo where ur wool. Upright and down-straight wur allays my motto. I be a plain man, but I allays tried to act straight-forrerd, and bean’t asheamed o’ no man.”