I came in from the back shop, where I was polishing the boots, with one of them in my hand.
"Look, my dear," says he, "here is an old friend of yours, his Excellency Lord Cornvallis! Who would have thought such a nobleman vood turn shoe-black? Gaptain Stobbs, here is your former flame, my dear niece, Miss Grotty. How could you, Magdalen, ever leaf soch a lof of a man? Shake hands vid her, Gaptain;—dere, never mind de blacking:" but Miss drew back.
"I never shake hands with a shoe-black," says she, mighty contemptuous.
"Bah! my lof, his fingers von't soil you. Don't you know he has just been vite-vashed?"
"I wish, uncle," says she, "you would not leave me with such low people."
"Low, because he cleans boots? de Gaptain prefers pumps to boots, I tink, ha! ha!"
"Captain, indeed! a nice Captain," says Miss Crutty, snapping her fingers in my face, and walking away: "a Captain, who has had his nose pulled? ha! ha!"—And how could I help it? it wasn't by my own choice that that ruffian Waters took such liberties with me; didn't I show how averse I was to all quarrels by refusing altogether his challenge?—but such is the world: and thus the people at Stiffelkind's used to tease me until they drove me almost mad.
At last, he came home one day more merry and abusive than ever. "Gaptain," says he, "I have goot news for you—a goot place. Your lortship vil not be able to geep your garridge, but you vil be gomfortable, and serve his Majesty."
"Serve his Majesty!" says I. "Dearest Mr. Stiffelkind, have you got me a place under Government?"
"Yes, and someting better still—not only a place, but a uniform—yes, Gabdain Stobbs, a red goat."