And then I
stretched out my hand.
"But yer honer can't keep 'em, you know," said he. "I haven't the
ghost of another shoe to my feet." But I only looked more sternly
than before, and still held out my hand. Custom prevailed. Larry
stooped down slowly, looking at me the while, and pulling off the
other slipper handed it to me with much hesitation. Alas! as I put
it to my foot I found that it was old, and worn, and irredeemably
down at heel;--that it was in fact no counterpart at all to that
other one which was to do duty as its fellow. But nevertheless I put
my foot into it, and felt that a descent to the drawing-room was now
possible.
"But yer honer will give 'em back to a poor man?" said Larry almost
crying. "The masther's mad this minute becase the dinner's not up.
Glory to God, only listhen to that!" And as he spoke a tremendous
peal rang out from some bell down stairs that had evidently been
shaken by an angry hand.
"Larry," said I--and I endeavoured to assume a look of very grave
importance as I spoke--"I look to you to assist me in this matter."
"Och--wirra sthrue then, and will you let me go? just listhen to
that," and another angry peal rang out, loud and repeated.
"If you do as I ask you," I continued, "you shall be well rewarded.
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