“Come and watch for a job,” he exclaimed.
“I don’t want it, thank you; I’ve a place.”
“A place! Britons never should be slaves! I like odd jobs, and freedom! Lend us a bob?”
“I have not got it.”
“Well, then, a brownie.”
“I have not even that,” replied Richard.
Ned eyed him closely.
“To think of your turning out like that,” he said, and he then walked round and round him. “We did not think we had such a fine gentleman for a friend, when we said he’d got the lucky penny.”
“We were never friends,” observed Richard, coldly.
“Don’t be too up,” was the reply, “and cut a poor cove because his toggery is not as fine as your’n. Rather small, though, aint they? Would just fit me.” He made two or three mocking bows round Richard, and vanished, playing the cart-wheel—turning over and over—along the street.