man's honorable moder (mamma smiled and made a curtsey), and dis his fader! Sare and madam, you should be broud of soch a sonn. And you, my niece, if you have him for a husband you vil be locky, dat is all. Vat dink you, brodder Crotty, and Madame Stobbs, I ave made your sonn's boots, ha! ha!"
My mamma laughed, and said, "I did not know it, but I am sure, sir, he has as pretty a leg for a boot as any in the whole country."
Old Stiffelkind roared louder. "A very nice leg ma'am, and a very sheap boot too! Vat, you did not know I make his boots! Perhaps you did not know someting else too—p'raps you did not know (and here the monster clapped his hand on the table, and made the punch-ladle tremble in the bowl) p'raps you did not know as dat yong man, dat Stobbs, dat sneaking, baltry, squinting fellow, is as vicked as he is ogly. He bot a pair of boots from me and never paid for dem. Dat is noting, nobody never pays, but be bought a pair of boots, and called himself Lord Cornvallis. And I was fool enough to believe him vonce. But look
