"Sit down," said I, "I'll finish this chapter, and then attend to you. Fine morning. Ha ! ha ! —this is a fine joke about my Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman! Ha! ha! ha! let me read this to you."
"I have no time ; I've got my noon chores to do."
"To the deuce with your chores!" said I.
"Don't drop your old tobacco about here, or I'll turn you out."
"Sir!"
"Let me read you this about the Widow Wadman. Said the Widow Wadman—"
"There's my bill, sir."
"Very good. Just twist it up, will you—it's about my smoking-time ; and hand a coal, will you, from the hearth yonder!"
"My bill, sir!" said the rascal, turning pale with rage and amazement at my unwonted air (formerly I had always dodged him with a pale face), but too prudent as yet to betray the extremity of his astonishment. "My bill,
