"Well, I s'pose I am, though I ain't got nuthin'. But folks as haint got nuthin' and enjoy it is a plagued sight richer than sich as has got everything and don't enjoy it. Yes—I s'pose I'm happy."
"And where's the old woman?"
"Dead, I s'pose."
"Dead!"
"Or in the work-house where she might'nt have been, if you'd a stayed round."
Jim Taft, for it was he, began to think, and the longer he thought, the more troubled he looked.
"You won't say as you saw me loafin' around here, will you?" he asked at length; "that is, if you won't give me a lift, me—your father?"
"How a lift?" inquired his interlocutor.
"A few shillings perhaps; or, perhaps you ain't got a pair o' boots as has in 'em more leather 'n holes, or a pair of breeches as is good for suthin'."