"It's no mistake tho'," persisted Jim, "an' I can tell you she ain't got a farden to bless herself vith!—an' she's over head-and-ears in debt too, I can tell you; an' she pays nobody—puttin' 'em all off, vith promises to pay wen she's married."
"My heye!" exclaimed the excited Wiggins, thrown all a-back by this very agreeable intention upon his funds.
"More nor that, sir," continued the revengeful Jim, "I know she thinks as she's hooked a preshus flat, an' means to marry you outright jist for vot she can get. An' von't she scatter the dibs?—that's all; she's the extravagantest 'ooman as hever I came anigh to."
"But, (dear me! ) she has a good stock—?"
"Dummies, sir, all dummies."
"Dummies?"
"Yes, sir; the sugars on the shelves is all dummies—wooden 'uns, done up in paper! The herrin' tub is on'y got a few at top—the rest's all shavins an' waste.—There's plenty o' salt to be sure—but the werry soap-box is all made up."
"And so's my mind!" emphatically exclaimed the deluded Wiggins, slapping the breakfast-table with his clenched fist.
"Jim—Jim—you're a honest lad, and there's half-a-crown for you—"
"Thank'ye for me, sir," said the errand-boy, grinning with delight—" and—and you'll cut the missus, Sir!"