shouted the perfumer.

"Vell, vatsh de matter, vatsh de row, fight avay, my boys; two to one
on the tailor," said Mr. Mossrose, much enjoying the sport (for Woolsey,
striding through the shop without speaking to him, had rushed into the
studio, where he plumped upon Eglantine).

"Tell him about that hair, sir."

"That hair! Now keep yourself quiet, Mister Timble, and don't tink for
to bully ME. You mean Mrs. Valker's 'air? Vy, she sold it me."

"And the more blackguard you for buying it! Will you take twenty guineas
for it?"

"No," said Mossrose.

"Twenty-five?"

"Can't," said Mossrose.

"Hang it! will you take forty? There!"

"I vish I'd kep it," said the Hebrew gentleman, with unfeigned regret.
"Eglantine dressed it this very night."

"For Countess Baldenstiern, the Swedish Hambassador's lady," says
Eglantine (his Hebrew partner was by no means a favourite with the
ladies, and only superintended the accounts of the concern). "It's this
very night at Devonshire 'Ouse, with four hostrich plumes, lappets, and
trimmings. And now, Mr. Woolsey, I'll trouble you to apologise."

Mr. Woolsey did not answer, but walked up to Mr. Eglantine, and snapped
his fingers so close under the perfumer's nose that the latter started
back and seized the bell-rope. Mossrose burst out laughing, and the
tailor walked majestically from the shop, with both hands stuck between
the lappets of his coat.

"My dear," said he to Morgiana a short time afterwards, "you must
not encourage that husband of yours in his extravagance, and sell the
clothes off your poor back that he may feast and act the fine gentleman
in prison."

"It is his health, poor dear soul!" interposed Mrs. Walker: "his chest.
Every farthing of the money goes to the doctors, poor fellow!"

"Well, now listen: I am a rich man" (it was a great fib, for Woolsey's
income, as a junior partner of the firm, was but a small one); "I can
very well afford to make him an allowance while he is in the Fleet, and
have written to him to say so. But if you ever give him a penny, or sell
a trinket belonging to you, upon my word and honour I will withdraw
the allowance, and, though it would go to my heart, I'll never see you
again. You wouldn't make me unhappy, would you?"

"I'd go on my knees to serve you, and Heaven bless you," said the wife.

"Well, then, you must give me this promise." And she did. "And now,"
said he, "your mother, and Podmore, and I have been talking over
matt