"Oh, land o' my fathers!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, "what's the
matter--what you got there? Who are ye?"
"The matter, ma'am," answered Joe, for by this time the Old Un had
cursed himself quite breathless, "the matter's contrariness; what I
'ave under my arm, ma'am, is a old reprobate, and I'm Joe Madden, ma'am,
come to take tea with my--come, as you might say, a visiting to Mr.
Geoffrey; p'raps you'll--"
"Don't 'eed 'im, ma'am--never 'eed 'im!" croaked the Old Un, who had
regained his wind by now. "'E 's a perishin' pork pig, that's wot 'e is.
Joe, you blighter, put me down. It's me as the Guv expects--it's me as
'as come a-visitin'--Joe, put me down, you perisher. Joe's only a hoaf,
ma'am, a nass, ma'am. Joe ain't used to perlite serciety, Joe don't know
nothin'--put me down, Joe, like a good lad!"
At this juncture Ravenslee appeared, whereupon Joe, having reached
the topmost landing, set the old man upon his natty feet and fell to
straightening his smart clothes with hands big but gentle.
"Sir," explained Joe, answering Ravenslee's smiling look, "Old Sin an'
Sorrer here wouldn't walk up, which forced me to--"
But now the Old Un, feeling himself again, cut in on his own account.
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