Mr Tappertit sat and contemplated him for a long time in
silence, as if he suspended his judgment; then drew a little nearer to
him, and eyed him over more carefully; then went close up to him, and
took him apart into a dark corner.
'I say,' he began, with a thoughtful brow, 'haven't I seen you before?'
'It's like you may,' said Hugh, in his careless way. 'I don't know;
shouldn't wonder.'
'No, but it's very easily settled,' returned Sim. 'Look at me. Did you
ever see ME before? You wouldn't be likely to forget it, you know, if
you ever did. Look at me. Don't be afraid; I won't do you any harm. Take
a good look--steady now.'
The encouraging way in which Mr Tappertit made this request, and
coupled it with an assurance that he needn't be frightened, amused Hugh
mightily--so much indeed, that he saw nothing at all of the small man
before him, through closing his eyes in a fit of hearty laughter, which
shook his great broad sides until they ached again.
'Come!' said Mr Tappertit, growing a little impatient under this
disrespectful treatment. 'Do you know me, feller?'
'Not I,' cried Hugh. 'Ha ha ha! Not I! But I should like to.'
'And yet I'd have wagered a seven-shilling piece,' said Mr Tappertit,
folding his arms, and confronting him with his legs wide apart and
firmly planted on the ground, 'that you once were hostler at the
Maypole.
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