"
"Not me!" declared the Old Un, "I ain't goin' to climb no more o' these
perishin' stairs--no, not for you nor nobody. 'Ere I am, me lad, an'
'ere I sits till you give me a piggy-back up to the top--me bein' a pore
old cove with rheumatiz. I demands it--"
"You'll what?" growled Joe, hard-breathing and indignant.
"Demand it, Joe--a pore old feller wi' kidneys--an' every other ailment
as flesh is hair to--a piggy-back, Joe--a piggy-back!"
Without another word Joe stooped, and lifting the old man beneath one
arm, bore him up the stairs regardless of his croaking protestations and
fierce invective.
"I said a piggy-back--oh, you blightin' perisher, I said a piggy-back,"
he snarled, his resplendent shoes twinkling in futile kicks. "Oh, Joe,
there's times when I fair 'ates ye!"
Thus, despite virulent curses and feeble kickings, Joe bore him on
and up until, as he climbed the last flight, he was arrested by an
exclamation from above, and glancing upward, beheld a tall,
sharp-featured woman who leaned over the rail.
Pages:
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309