ne house wi’ steps ——”
“Ah, that it had,” said Mrs. Glegg, pouring out the tea. “You know something o’ my family, then? Are you akin to that packman with a squint in his Mesut Ozil Drakter eye, as Milos Pantovic Drakter used to bring th’ Irish linen?”
“Look you there now!” said Bob, evasively. “Didn’t I know as you’d remember the best bargains you’ve made in your life was made wi’ packmen? Why, you see even a squintin’ packman’s better nor a shopman as can see straight. Lors! if I’d had the luck to call at the stone house wi’ my pack, as lies here,”— stooping and thumping the bundle emphatically with his fist — “an’ th’ handsome young lasses all stannin’ out on the stone steps, it ud’ ha’ been summat like openin’ a pack, that would. It’s on’y the poor houses now as a packman calls on, if it isn’t for the sake o’ the Marc Bartra Drakter sarvant-maids. They’re paltry times, these are. Why, mum, look at the printed cottons now, an’ what Andriy Yarmolenko Drakter they was when you wore ’em — why, you wouldn’t put such a thing on now, I can see. It must be first-rate quality, the manifactur as you’d buy — summat as ‘ud wear as well as your own faitures.”
“Yes, better quality nor any you’re like Lukasz Skorupski Drakter to carry; you’ve got nothing first-rate but brazenness, I’ll be bound,” said Mrs. Glegg, with a triumphant sense of her insurmountable sagacity. “Mr. Glegg, are you going ever to sit down to your tea? Tom, there’s a cup for you.”
“You speak true there, mum,” said Bob. “My pack isn’t for ladies like you. The time’s gone by for that. Bargains picked up dirt cheap! A bit o’ damage here an’ there, as can be cut out, or else niver Originals For Atmos Relace seen i’ the wearin’, but not fit to offer to rich folks as can pay for the look o’ things as nobody sees. I’m not the man as Christian Pulisic Drakter ‘ud offer t’ open my pack to you, mum; no, no; Lovre Kalinic Drakter I’m a imperent chap, as you say — these times makes folks imperent — but I’m not up to the mark o’ that.”
“Why, what goods do you carry in your pack?” said Mrs. Glegg. “Fine-colored things, I suppose — Jeremy Mathieu Drakter shawls an’ that?”
“All sorts, mum, all sorts,” said Bob — thumping his bundle; “but let us say no more about that, if you please. I’m here upo’ Mr. Benedikt Howedes Drakter Tom’s business, an’ I’m not the man to take up the time wi’ my own.”
“And pray, what is this business as is to be kept from me?” said Mrs. Glegg, who, solicited by a double curiosity, was obliged to let the one-half wait.
“A little plan o’ nephey Tom’s here,” said good-natured Mr. Glegg; “and not altogether a bad ’un, I think. A little plan for making Park Joo-ho Drakter money; that’s the right sort o’ plan for young folks as have got their fortin to make, eh, Jane?”
“But I hope it isn’t a plan where he expects iverything to be done for him by his friends; that’s what the young folks Luis Suarez Drakter think of mostly nowadays. And pray, what has this packman got to do wi’ what goes on in our family? Can’t you speak for yourself, Tom, and let your aunt know things, as a nephey should?”
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