TURGIS SEES HER 173

noon. Yersh/ I told her, 'an' Shunday arfternoon too,
if you're not careful.' Jusht telling her politely, shee?
All right, what doesh she shay to that? She shaysh,
'Well, we're diff rent 'ere, shee?' and then shlamsh the
door in me faysh."

'The cheeky monkey!" cried Mrs. Pelumpton indig-
nantly. "I'd slam it in her face if I'd anything to do
with her. It's downright ignorance, that's what it is.
There's people round here has no more idea 'ow to
behave than a—a—a parrot."

"Ar, well," Mr. Pelumpton continued, philosophi-
cally, "we've got a lot to put with in our bishnish. And
you can take that from me, Mishter Turgish. But if
the shtuff's there, we don't mind. All in the day'sh
work, shee?"

"After something good, Mr. Pelumpton?" Turgis
inquired.

"That'sh right. A lovely piesh he'sh got to shell—a
shide board—oh? a lovely piesh, it ish—only wantsh a
bit of polishing and it'sh good enough for anybody, that
piesh ish, fit for a palash. I can't 'andle it myshelf, not
ash trade ish now, but I know who can. It'sh a com-
mission job."

"That's the idea," said Turgis, with vague approval.
He was a youth who liked to agree with his company,
not because he felt kindly disposed towards other people
but simply because it was less trouble to agree and
applaud. He really thought Mr. Pelumpton a ridiculous
old bore.

"Now that's one thing I've always wanted," cried Mrs.
Pelumpton. "A sideboard, a proper nice sideboard, cup-
boards and all, and room for everything. Mahogany,
I'd like."