Stevens hereupon related his visit at Whitticar's, and detailed the
events that had subsequently occurred.
Mr. Morton gave vent to shouts of laughter as he listened to the recital of
his friend. "By George!" he exclaimed, "I'll have to tell that; it is too
good to keep."
"Oh, no, don't," said Mr. Stevens; "that won't do--you forget what I came
out for?"
"True," rejoined Mr. Morton; "I suppose it will be best to keep mum about
it. I'll go home with you, you might fall into the hands of the Philistines
again."
"Thank you--thank you," replied Mr. Stevens, who felt greatly relieved to
have some company for his further protection; "and," continued he, "if I
could only get some of this infernal stuff off my face, I should be so
glad; let us try."
Accordingly they stopped at the nearest pump, and endeavoured to remove
some of the obnoxious tar from his face; but, unfortunately, the only
result obtained by their efforts was to rub it more thoroughly in, so they
were compelled to give up in despair, and hasten onward.
Mr. Stevens rang so loudly at the door, as to quite startle his wife and
the charity-girl, both of whom had fallen into a sound sleep, as they sat
together awaiting his return. Mr. Morton, who, as we have said before, was
not entirely sober, was singing a popular melody, and keeping time upon the
door with the head of his cane.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282