In these
proceedings, Mr Dennis, who had a gruff voice and lungs of considerable
power, distinguished himself very much, and acquired great credit with
his two companions.
'What a queer fellow you are!' said Mr Tappertit. 'You're so precious
sly and close. Why don't you ever tell what trade you're of?'
'Answer the captain instantly,' cried Hugh, beating his hat down on his
head; 'why don't you ever tell what trade you're of?'
'I'm of as gen-teel a calling, brother, as any man in England--as light
a business as any gentleman could desire.'
'Was you 'prenticed to it?' asked Mr Tappertit.
'No. Natural genius,' said Mr Dennis. 'No 'prenticing. It come
by natur'. Muster Gashford knows my calling. Look at that hand of
mine--many and many a job that hand has done, with a neatness and
dexterity, never known afore. When I look at that hand,' said Mr
Dennis, shaking it in the air, 'and remember the helegant bits of work
it has turned off, I feel quite molloncholy to think it should ever grow
old and feeble. But sich is life!'
He heaved a deep sigh as he indulged in these reflections, and putting
his fingers with an absent air on Hugh's throat, and particularly under
his left ear, as if he were studying the anatomical development of that
part of his frame, shook his head in a despondent manner and actually
shed tears.
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