The paragon shuffled his feet.
"What's that to yer?" he replied. "Why don't yer get to hoein'?"
Mr. Minnidick munched and swallowed nothing with considerable vehemence for some minutes, and then he said with excruciating bitterness:
"Why don't ye git to them as drew ye from hoein'?"
"Shut yer head, I've done with 'em," said the paragon.
"Oh, I dessay," returned Mr. Minnidick, with aggravated grievousness, "I dessay, but where's the garding been while ye was with 'em? Who's seen arter the mushrims? Who's a-cared for them there mellings? Who's been a-watchin' of the cowcumbers? Lawks-a-mussy! Darn it all, I say!"
Mr. Bush deigned no reply to these passionate questions, but proceeded heavily into the house, from which he presently emerged, clad in more suitable raiment, still loaded with the Emperor's gold and silver, and in the act of swallowing a mighty hunch of home-made bread. Without making any further remark, he laid hold of a spade and began to dig in gloomy silence, while Mr. Minnidick went on hoeing and muttering angrily to himself. How long these pastoral occupations would have continued in ordinary circumstances, it is impossible to say. They might, perhaps, have been protracted till full noontide, had not a sound of horses galloping in the adjacent lane suddenly attracted the attention of the paragon, who rested upon his spade, scratched his huge head, and began to look rather uneasy.
"Whatever's that?" he muttered.
"'Osses," replied Mr. Minnidick. "A-runnin' away, darn 'em!"
It really seemed as if there were something in this remark, for the noise upon the highway proclaimed that the animals were approaching at a tremendous pace, and would soon be in view of the diligent gardeners. Scarcely had Mr. Minnidick made his last statement, when Mr. Bush went through a somewhat remarkable performance. He dropped his spade, and cast himself down on the earth upon his face, at the same time shouting to Mr. Minnidick: