in no way to blame," I said angrily. "We arrested you;
whether Mr. Bumble can spare time to step up there, directly, and
flog him-- 'cause master's out.'
'Certainly, my boy; certainly,' said the gentleman in the white
waistcoat: smiling benignly, and patting Noah's head, which was
about three inches higher than his own. 'You're a good boy--a
very good boy. Here's a penny for you. Bumble, just step up to
Sowerberry's with your cane, and seed what's best to be done.
'No, I will not, sir,' replied the beadle. And the cocked hat