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Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887

"The Channings"

Which I took to mean that, in his
opinion, there ought to be an inquiry instituted."
"And you know there ought," said Mr. Ketch.
"_I_ know! I'm sure I don't know," was the mild answer. "It is not my
place to reflect upon my superiors, Mr. Ketch--to say they should do
this, or they should do that. I like to reverence them, and to keep a
civil tongue in my head."
"Which is what you don't do. If I knowed who brewed this beer I'd enter
an action again him, for putting in no malt."
"I would not have had this get about for any money!" resumed Jenkins.
"Neither you nor father shall ever catch me opening my lips again."
"Keep 'em shut then," growled old Ketch.
Mr. Ketch leisurely finished his supper, and the two continued talking
until dusk came on--almost dark; for the porter, churl though he was,
liked a visitor as well as any one--possibly as a vent for his temper.
He did not often find one who would stand it so meekly as Joe Jenkins.
At length Mr. Jenkins lifted himself off the shut-up press bedstead on
which he had been perched, and prepared to depart.
"Come along of me while I lock up," said Ketch, somewhat less
ungraciously than usual.
Mr. Jenkins hesitated. "My wife will be wondering what has become of
me; she'll blow me up for keeping supper waiting," debated he, aloud.
"But--well, I don't mind going with you this once, for company's sake,"
he added in his willingness to be obliging.


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