Moore gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction as the sound of feet died away upon the stairs below.
"But, sir," said Buster, inquiringly, as he shut the door, "wot use his one boot?"
Moore regarded his youthful retainer with a look of mild astonishment.
"Don't you understand, Buster?"
"Not Hi, sir."
"Well then, I 'll not tell you. Demonstration is far more valuable than explanation. So just watch me, my lad. A study of Thomas Moore when hard up is a liberal education for the young and unsophisticated. You shall be educated, Buster."
"Yes, sir. Wot his it, Lord Castlereagh?"
"Gr-r-r-g-h!" remarked the bulldog, warningly, at the same time sniffing suspiciously at the crack of the door.
"Is-s-s Mister-r-r M-M-M-oore in?" demanded a husky voice, enthusiastically and persistently hyphenated by a decided stutter.
"Hit's the hother shoemaker, sir," whispered Buster, recognizing the thick utterance of the newcomer. "The one who spits on his words, sir, before 'ee lets loose hof 'em."