"Might it not have gone down his
throat? Took his potato-trap for the pantry-door. Ha! ha!"
"Ay, I hear ye, young man, a-laughing at your own sport," said Maxley,
winking his eye; "but 'tain't the biggest mouth as catches the most. You
sits yander fit to bust; but (with a roar like a lion) ye never offers
_me_ none on't, neither sup nor bit."
At this sudden turn of Mr. Maxley's wit, light and playful as a tap of
the old English quarter-staff, they were a little staggered; all but
Edward, who laughed and supplied him zealously with sandwiches.
"You're a gentleman, you are," said Maxley, looking full at Sampson and
Alfred to point the contradistinction.
Having thus disposed of his satirists, he contemplated the sandwiches
with an inquiring and philosophic eye. "Well," said he, after long and
thoughtful inspection, "you gentlefoiks won't die of hard work; your
sarvants must cut the very meat to fit your mouths." And not to fall
behind the gentry in a great and useful department of intelligence, he
made precisely one mouthful of each sandwich.
Mrs. Dodd was secretly amazed, and, taking care not to be noticed by
Maxley, said confidentially, _"Monsieur avait bien raison; le souris a
passe: par la.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363