Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad with Tales and Miscellanies Now First Collected Volume III Part 10

d.i.c.k--(_with a grin._)

Why, for singing, honey! So says I, "Hark 'ee, Mr. Sc.r.a.pe-trencher, there go words to that bargain: what right have you to go for to speak in that there way to me?" says I; and says he, "We'll have you 'dited for a nuisance, fellor," says he.

MARGERY--(_clasping her hands._)

A nuisance! my d.i.c.k a nuisance! O Lord a' mercy!

d.i.c.k.

Never fear, girl; I'm a free-born Englishman, and I knows the laws well enough: and says I, "No more a fellor than yourself; I'm an honest man, following an honest calling, and I don't care _that_ for you nor your lord neither; and I'll sing _when_ I please, and I'll sing _what_ I please, and I'll sing as loud as I please; I will, by jingo!" and so he lifts me up his cane, and I says quite cool, "This house is my castle; and if you don't take yourself out of that in a jiffey, why, I'll give your laced jacket such a dusting as it never had before in its life--I will."

MARGERY.

O, d.i.c.k! you've a spirit of your own, I warrant. Well, and then?

d.i.c.k.

Oh, I promise you he was off in the twinkling of a bed-post, and I've heard no more of him; but I was determined to wake you this morning with a thundering song; just to show 'em I didn't care for 'em--ha! ha! ha!

MARGERY.

Oh, ho! that was the reason, then, that you bawled so in my ear, and frightened me out of my sleep--was it? Oh, well, I forgive you; but bless me! I stand chattering here, and it's twelve o'clock, as I live!

I must go to market--(_putting on her shawl and bonnet._) What would you like to have for dinner, d.i.c.k, love? a nice rasher of bacon, by way of a relish?

d.i.c.k--(_smacking his lips._)

Just the very thing, honey.

MARGERY.

Well, give me the s.h.i.+lling, then.

d.i.c.k--(_scratching his head._)

What s.h.i.+lling?

MARGERY.

Why, the s.h.i.+lling you had yesterday.

d.i.c.k--(_feeling in his pockets._)

A s.h.i.+lling!

MARGERY.

Yes, a s.h.i.+lling. (_Gaily._) To have meat, one must have money; and folks must eat as well as sing, d.i.c.k, love. Come, out with it!

d.i.c.k.

But suppose I haven't got it?

MARGERY.

How! what! you don't mean for to say that the last s.h.i.+lling that you put in your pocket, just to make a show, is gone?

d.i.c.k--(_with a sigh._)

But I do, though--it's gone.

MARGERY.

What shall we do?

d.i.c.k.

I don't know. (_A pause. They look at each other._) Stay, that's lucky.

Here's a pair of dancing pumps as belongs to old Mrs. Crusty, the baker's wife at the corner--

MARGERY--(_gaily._)

We can't eat _them_ for dinner, I guess.

d.i.c.k.

No, no; but I'm just at the last st.i.tch.

MARGERY.

Yes--

d.i.c.k--(_speaking and working in a hurry._)

And so you'll take them home--

MARGERY.

Yes--

d.i.c.k.

And tell her I must have seven-pence halfpenny for them. (_Gives them._)

MARGERY--(_examining the shoes._)

But, d.i.c.k, isn't that some'at extortionate, as a body may say?

seven-pence halfpenny!