but perceive
what Mr. Morgan's late occupation had been; to which he adverted in that
simple and forcible phraseology which men are sometimes in the habit of
using to their domestics; informing Morgan that he was a drunken beast,
and that he smelt of brandy.

At this the man broke out, losing patience, and flinging up all
subordination, "I'm drunk, am I? I'm a beast, am I? I'm d----d, am I?
you infernal old miscreant. Shall I wring your old head off, and
drownd yer in that pail of water? Do you think I'm a-goin' to bear your
confounded old harrogance, you old Wigsby! Chatter your old hivories at
me, do you, you grinning old baboon! Come on, if you are a man, and can
stand to a man. Ha! you coward, knives, knives!"

"If you advance a step, I'll send it into you," said the Major, seizing
up a knife that was on the table near him. "Go downstairs, you drunken
brute, and leave the house; send for your book and your wages in the
morning, and never let me see your insolent face again. This d----d
impertinence of yours has been growing for some months past. You have
been growing too rich. You are not fit for service. Get out of it, and
out of the house."

"And where would you wish me to go, pray, out of the 'ouse?" asked the
man, "and won't it be equal convenient to-morrow mornin'?--tootyfay mame
shose, sivvaplay, munseer?"

"Silence, you beast, and go!" cried out the Major.

Morgan began to laugh, with rather a sinister laugh. "Look yere,
Pendennis," he said, seating himself; "since I've been in this room
you've called me beast, brute, dog: and d----d me, haven't you? How do
you suppose one man likes that sort of talk from another? How many years
have I waited on you, and how many damns and cusses have you given me,
along with my wages? Do you think a man's a dog, that you can talk to
him in this way? If I choose to drink a little, why shouldn't I? I've
seen many a gentleman drunk form'ly, and peraps have the abit from them.
I ain't a-goin' to leave this house, old feller, and shall I tell you
why? The house is my house, every stick of furnitur' in it is mine,
excep' your old traps, and your shower-bath, and your wigbox. I've
bought the place, I tell you, with my own industry and perseverance.
I can show a hundred pound, where you can show a fifty, or your damned
supersellious nephew either. I've served you honourable, done everythink
for you these dozen years, and I'm a dog, am I? I'm a beast, am I?
That's the language