“i’m futman,” says he.
“Then the cook,” says i.
“We arn’t no cook,” says he.
“No cook!” says i, almose putrifide with surprise; “you must be jokin’”—
“Jokin’,” says he; “do you no who lives here?”
“Not exacly,” says i.
“Lord Milburn,” says he.
i thort i shud have dropt on the step, as a glimmerin’ of the doo shot aX my mine.
“Then you don’t want no howsmaid?” says i.
“Howsmaid!” says the boy; “go to blazes: (What could he mean by