"Hi left 'im one full bottle, so hif 'ee should 'appen to fall hon 'is way downstairs hit would be hall right. Hi 've got hall 'ee 'ad with 'im hexcept that one bottle wich Hi feels has 'ow hit was a cruel shame to waste."
As the boy spoke he threw open the cupboard and exhibited his plunder neatly arranged in two rows on the middle shelf.
Moore swore gently in his astonishment and sat down.
"Buster," said he, "have you no morals?"
"No, sir, but Hi 'as the sherry."
"Well, there is no use in sending it back, I suppose. It's six more bottles to be added to the bill when I pay it."
"Yessir, this his simply hour method hof obtaining more credit, sir."
"Buster," said Moore solemnly. "You are a financier. We 'll have a glass together."
* * * * *
Promptly at four a dapper little person, who moved with such lively and mannered steps, even when walking at his slowest gait, that his general demeanor was highly suggestive of a dancing master in business hours, entered the house which was honored by the presence of Thomas Moore and his faithful servant. This individual was a cobbler named Hypocrates Slink, who hammered and sewed leather in a little store perhaps a hundred yards farther down the street than the house presided over by Mrs. Malone. He had red hair and a nose gently tinted with another shade of the same color. His eyes were small, blue, and not entirely guiltless of a squint; in fact, his chief rival in the trade was wont to describe him as a cock-eyed impostor. This, being repeated to Mr. Slink, had caused him to make remarks of a decidedly acrimonious nature in reply, and as these had in their turn been faithfully carried to the object that had drawn them forth, a bitter feud was engendered, the result being that the neighborhood was frequently provided with amusement by the verbal combats of the two cobblers, for, while physical encounters seemed pending, as yet there had none taken place.