'He don't understand your way,' said the latter. 'Here, I'll explain it
to him. Barnaby old boy, attend to me.'
'I'll attend,' said Barnaby, looking anxiously round; 'but I wish I
could see her somewhere.'
'See who?' demanded Dennis in a gruff tone. 'You an't in love I hope,
brother? That an't the sort of thing for us, you know. We mustn't have
no love here.'
'She would be proud indeed to see me now, eh Hugh?' said Barnaby.
'Wouldn't it make her glad to see me at the head of this large show?
She'd cry for joy, I know she would. Where CAN she be? She never sees me
at my best, and what do I care to be gay and fine if SHE'S not by?'
'Why, what palaver's this?' asked Mr Dennis with supreme disdain. 'We
an't got no sentimental members among us, I hope.'
'Don't be uneasy, brother,' cried Hugh, 'he's only talking of his
mother.'
'Of his what?' said Mr Dennis with a strong oath.
'His mother.'
'And have I combined myself with this here section, and turned out on
this here memorable day, to hear men talk about their mothers!' growled
Mr Dennis with extreme disgust. 'The notion of a man's sweetheart's bad
enough, but a man's mother!'--and here his disgust was so extreme that
he spat upon the ground, and could say no more.
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