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With this remonstrance, the melancholy man, who was no other than Mr Thomas Codlin, pushed past his friend and brother in the craft, Mr Harris, otherwise Short or Trotters, and hurried before him to the single gentlemans apartment. Now, my men, said the single gentleman; you have done very well. What will you take? Tell that little man behind, to shut the door. Shut the door, cant you? said Mr Codlin, turning gruffly to his friend. You might have knowed that the gentleman wanted the door shut, without being told, I think. Mr Short obeyed, observing under his breath that his friend seemed unusually cranky, and expressing a hope that there was no dairy in the neighbourhood, or his temper would certainly spoil its contents. The gentleman pointed to a couple of chairs, and intimated by an emphatic nod of his head that he expected them to be seated. Messrs. Codlin and Short, after looking at each other with considerable doubt and indecision, at length sat downeach on the extreme edge of the chair pointed out to himand held their hats very tight, while the single gentleman filled a couple of glasses from a bottle on the table beside him, and presented them in due form. Youre pretty well browned by the sun, both of you, said their entertainer. Have you been travelling? Mr Short replied in the affirmative with a nod and a smile. Mr Codlin added a corroborative nod and a short groan, as if he still felt the weight of the Temple on his shoulders. To fairs, markets, races, and so forth, I suppose? pursued the single gentleman. Yes, Sir, returned Short, pretty nigh all over the West of England. I have talked to men of your craft from North, East, and South, returned their host, in rather a hasty manner; but I never lighted on any from the West before. Its our reglar summer circuit is the West, master, said Short, thats where it is. We take the East of London in the spring and winter, and the West of England in the summer time. Manys the hard days walking in rain and mud, and with never a penny earned, weve had down in the West. Let me fill your glass again. Much obleeged to you, Sir, I think I will, said Mr Codlin, suddenly thrusting in his own and turning Shorts aside. Im the sufferer, Sir, in all the travelling, and in all the staying at home. In town or country, wet or dry, hot or cold, Tom Codlin suffers. But Tom Codlin isnt to complain for all that. Oh, no! Short may complain, but if Codlin grumbles by so much as a word oh dear, down with him, down with him directly. It isnt his place to grumble. Thats quite out of the question. Codlin aint without his usefulness, observed Short with an arch look, but he dont always keep his eyes open. He falls asleep sometimes, you know. Remember them last races, Tommy. Will you never leave off aggravating a man? said Codlin. Its very likely I was asleep when five-and- tenpence was collected, in one round, isnt it? I was attending to my business, and couldnt have my eyes in twenty places at once, like a peacock, no more than you could. If I ant a match for an old man and a young child, you ant neither, so dont throw that out against me, for the cap fits your head quite as correct as it fits mine. You may as well drop the subject, Tom, said Short. It isnt particular agreeable to the gentleman, I dare say. |
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