uor--
_Tinker_. I can't, young man, my heart's too full, and what's more, the
pitcher is empty.
_Myself_. And so he swore you, I suppose, on the Bible, to quit the
roads?
_Tinker_. You are right, he did so, the Gypsy villain.
_Myself_. Gypsy! Is he a Gypsy?
_Tinker_. Not exactly; what they call a half and half. His father was a
Gypsy, and his mother, like mine, one who walked the roads.
_Myself_. Is he of the Smiths--the Petulengres?
_Tinker_. I say, young man, you know a thing or two; one would think, to
hear you talk, you had been bred upon the roads. I thought none but
those bred upon the roads knew anything of that name--Petulengres! No,
not he, he fights the Petulengres whenever he meets them; he likes nobody
but himself, and wants to be king of the roads. I believe he is a Boss,
{139} or a --- at any rate he's a bad one, as I know to my cost.
_Myself_. And what are you going to do?
_Tinker_. Do! you may well ask that; I don't know what to do. My poor
wife and I have been talking of that all the morning, over that half-pint
mug of beer; we can't determine on what's to be done. All we know is,
that we must quit the roads. The villain swore that the next time he saw
us on the roads he'd cut all our throats, and seize our horse and bit of
a cart that are now standing out there under the tree.
_Myself_. And what do you mean to do with your horse and cart?
_Tinker_. Another question! What shall we do with our cart and pony?
they are of no use to us now. Stay on the roads I will not, both for my
oath's sake and my own. If we had a trifle of money, we were thinking of
going to Bristol, where I might get up a little business, but we have
none; our last three farthings we spent about the mug of beer.
_Myself_. But why don't you sell your horse and cart?
_Tinker_. Sell them, and who would buy them, unless some one who wished
to set up in my line; but there's no beat, and what's the use of the
horse and cart and the few tools without the beat?
_Myself_. I'm half inclined to buy your cart and pony, and your beat
too.
_Tinker_. You! How came you to think of such a thing?
_Myself_. Why, like yourself, I hardly know what to do. I want a home
and work. As for a home, I suppose I can contrive to make a home out of
your tent and cart; and as for work, I must learn to be a tinker, it
would not be hard for one of my trade to learn to tinker; what better can
I do? Would
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