... You've done us proper, sir.... Just what I
wanted.... Good night, ma'am;"--but the foot-people lingered. The
red-coated earth-digger, Veale, and one or two others, had got around
Mr. Allen and were chaffing him irreverently.
"There, that'll do," said Dale, joining the group and speaking with
firmness. Then he politely offered to have a nag put into the gig and
to send Mr. Allen home on wheels.
"Thank you kindly," said Allen. "I'm not going home; but if your man
can rattle me a mile or so up towards Beacon Hill, it's a hundred to
one I shall drop in with them again. With the wind where it is, hounds
are bound to push anything that's in front of them up to the high
ground."
As soon as Dale went to order his gig the clumsy facetiousness was
renewed.
"'Tes a pity you ben't a hound yersel, Mr. Allen."
"Ah," said Veale, "if the wood pucks cud transform him on to all
fours, what a farder he'd mek to th' next litter o' pops at the
Kennels."
"By gum," said the earth-digger, slapping his leg, "they pups would
have noses. They wuddent never be at fault, would 'em?"
Old Mrs. Goudie, who had a simple taste in raillery, was so convulsed
by this jesting that she put down her tray in order to laugh at ease;
and chiefly because she was laughing, Mary laughed also.
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