The apprentices resumed their places in the front-shop, and relieved
Sam Porter; when Jenkin said to Tunstall--"Didst see, Frank, how the
old goldsmith cottoned in with his beggarly countryman? When would one
of his wealth have shaken hands so courteously with a poor
Englishman?--Well, I'll say that for the best of the Scots, that they
will go over head and ears to serve a countryman, when they will not
wet a nail of their finger to save a Southron, as they call us, from
drowning. And yet Master George is but half-bred Scot neither in that
respect; for I have known him do many a kind thing to the English
too."
"But hark ye, Jenkin," said Tunstall, "I think you are but half-bred
English yourself. How came you to strike on the Scotsman's side after
all?"
"Why, you did so, too," answered Vincent.
"Ay, because I saw you begin; and, besides, it is no Cumberland
fashion to fall fifty upon one," replied Tunstall.
"And no Christ Church fashion neither," said Jenkin. "Fair play and
Old England for ever!--Besides, to tell you a secret, his voice had a
twang in it--in the dialect I mean--reminded me of a little tongue,
which I think sweeter--sweeter than the last toll of St. Dunstan's
will sound, on the day that I am shot of my indentures--Ha!--you guess
who I mean, Frank?"
"Not I, indeed," answered Tunstall.--"Scotch Janet, I suppose, the
laundress.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84