have plenty of them in his pockets too--um--very comfortable--and so
on," replied Mr Cophagus, leaving the shop.

I resumed my thumping occupation, when Timothy returned with his empty
basket. He laughed when he saw me at work. "Well, how do you like the
rudimans?--and so on--heh?" said he, mimicking Mr Cophagus.

"Not overmuch," replied I, wiping my face.

"That was my job before you came. I have been more than a year, and
never have got out of those rudimans yet, and I suppose I never shall."

Mr Brookes, perceiving that I was tired, desired me to leave off, an
order which I gladly obeyed, and I took my seat in a corner of the shop.

"There," said Timothy, laying down his basket; "no more work for me
_hanty prandium,_ is there, Mr Brookes?"

"No, Tim; but _post prandium,_ you'll _post_ off again."

Dinner being ready, and Mr Cophagus having returned, he and Mr Brookes
went into the back parlour, leaving Timothy and me in the shop to
announce customers. And I shall take this opportunity of introducing Mr
Timothy more particularly, as he will play a very conspicuous part in
this narrative. Timothy was short in stature for his age, but very
strongly built. He had an oval face, with a very dark complexion, grey
eyes flashing from under their long eyelashes, and eyebrows nearly
meeting each other. He was marked with the small-pox, not so much as to
disfigure him, but still it was very perceptible when near to him. His
countenance was always lighted up with merriment; there was such a