Don't tell fibs, dame Smith; don't tell fibs, chucking her under the
chin: which made John's upper-lip, with chin shortened, rise to his nose.
--I am sure you know!--But here's another pair of stairs: let us see: Who
lives up there?--but hold, here's another room locked up, tapping at the
door--Who's at home? cried I.
That's Mrs. Lovick's apartment. She is gone out, and has the key with
her.
Widow Lovick! rapping again, I believe you are at home: pray open the
door.
John and Joseph muttered and whispered together.
No whispering, honest friends: 'tis not manners to whisper. Joseph, what
said John to thee?
JOHN! Sir, disdainfully repeated the good woman.
I beg pardon, Mrs. Smith: but you see the force of example. Had you
showed your honest man more respect, I should. Let me give you a piece
of advice--women who treat their husbands irreverently, teach strangers
to use them with contempt. There, honest master John; why dost not pull
off thy hat to me?--Oh! so thou wouldst, if thou hadst it on: but thou
never wearest thy hat in thy wife's presence, I believe; dost thou?
None of your fleers and your jeers, Sir, cried John. I wish every
married pair lived as happily as we do.
I wish so too, honest friend. But I'll be hanged if thou hast any
children.
Why so, Sir?
Hast thou?--Answer me, man: Hast thou, or not?
Perhaps not, Sir. But what of that?
What of that?--Why I'll tell thee: The man who has no children by his
wife must put up with plain John. Hadst thou a child or two, thou'dst be
called Mr. Smith, with a courtesy, or a smile at least, at every word.
You are very pleasant, Sir, replied my dame. I fancy, if either my
husband or I had as much to answer for as I know whom, we should not be
so merry.
Why then, dame Smith, so much the worse for those who were obliged to
keep you company. But I am not merry--I am sad!--Hey-ho!--Where shall I
find my dear Miss Harlowe?
My beloved Miss Harlowe! [calling at the foot of the third pair of
stairs,] if you are above, for Heaven's sake answer me. I am coming up.
Sir, said the good man, I wish you'd walk down. The servants' rooms, and
the working-rooms, are up those stairs, and another pair; and nobody's
there that you want.
Shall I go up, and see if Miss Harlowe be there, Mrs. Smith?
You may, Sir, if you please.
Then I won't; for, if she was, you would not be so obliging.
I am ashamed to give you all this attendance: you are the politest
traders I ever knew. Honest Joseph, slapping him upon the shoulders on
a sudden, which made him jump, didst ever grin for a wager, man?--for the
rascal seemed not displeased with me; and, cracking his flat face from
ear to ear, with a distended mouth, showed his teeth, as broad and as
black as his thumb-nails.--But don't I hinder thee? What canst earn
a-day, man?
Half-a-crown I can earn a-day; with an air of pride and petulance, at
being startled.
There then is a day's wages for thee. But thou needest not attend me
farther.
Come, Mrs. Smith, come John, (Master Smith I should say,) let's walk
down, and give me an account where the lady is gone, and when she will
return.
So down stairs led I. John and Joseph (though I had discharged the
latter,) and my dame, following me, to show their complaisance to a
stranger.
I re-entered one of the first-floor rooms. I have a great mind to be
your lodger: for I never saw such obliging folks in my life. What rooms
have you to let?
None at all, Sir.