him, and had his shoes made regularly by that foreign upstart.
Thirdly, he happened to want a pair of shoes mended at this particular period, and as he was measured by the disgusting old High-Dutch Cobbler, he told him his old friend Stubbs was going to be married.
"And to whom?" said old Stiffelkind, "to a voman wit gelt, I vil take my oath."
"Yes," says Bunting, "a country girl—a Miss Magdalen Carrotty or Crotty, at a place called Sloffemsquiggle."
"Schloffemschwiegel!" bursts out the dreadful boot-maker, "Mein Gott, mein Gott! das geht nicht—I tell you, sare, it is no go. Miss Crotty is my niece. I vill go down myself. I vill never let her marry dat goot-for-noting schwindler and tief." Such was the language that the scoundrel ventured to use regarding me!
