So when he sat down on one side of the fire, and began lighting his pipe, I kept standing looking at him, and thinking how I should begin.
“There’s your pipe, Dick,” said he, puffing away, “on the settle—why don’t you sit down and light up?”
“I shan’t smoke with you to-night, Joe,” said I, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“Ashamed o’ myself,” shouted Joe, staring up at me till I could hardly keep from laughing, angry as I was; “what, in the name o’ goodness, have I done to be ashamed of?”
“’Tisn’t what you’ve done, but what you’ve said.”
“Said! what in the world have I said? Precious little I know, for you always get all the talk to yourself.”
“Why, what you said just now to me and Miss Lucy,” said I.
“To you and Lu?” said he, looking puzzled; and then off he went into one of his great laughs. “Oh, I take—well, that’s too much! To be blown up by you for it! Why, if any one is to scold, I should say it’s Lu.”
“Do you think I like to be made the means of giving your sister pain?” said I.