'I came here thinking to get some breakfast,' observed Mr. Sponge, casting
an eye upon the disordered table, and reconnoitring the bottles and the
remains of the dessert.
'Did you?' said the woman; 'I wish you may get it.'
'I wish I may,' replied he. 'If you would manage that for me, just some
coffee and a mutton chop or two, I'd remember you,' said he, still
tantalizing her with the sound of the silver in his pocket.
'Me manish it!' exclaimed the woman, her hopes again rising at the sound;
'me manish it! how d'ye think I'm to manish sich things?' asked she.
'Why, get at the cook, or the housekeeper, or somebody,' replied Mr.
Sponge.
'Cook or housekeeper!' exclaimed she. 'There'll be no cook or housekeeper
astir here these many hours yet; I question,' added she, 'they get up
to-day.'
'What! they've been put to bed too, have they?' asked he.
'W-h-y no--not zactly that,' drawled the woman; 'but when sarvants are kept
up three nights out of four, they must make up for lost time when they
can.'
'Well,' mused Mr.
Pages:
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801