"D--- that, etc.! and send him to, etc.!"

"Yes, sir."

And away glided the liveried rotundity.--

Appearing at the street-door, the musician took his instrument from his
lips, and, approaching the steps, touched his sorry beaver with the side
of his left hand.

"There's three-pence for you," said the menial, "and master wishes you'd
move on."

"Threepence, indeed!" mumbled the man. "I never moves on under sixpence:
d'ye think I doesn't know the walley o' peace and quietness?"

"Fellow!" cried the irate footman, with a pompous air--"Master desires as
you'll go on."

"Werry well"--replied the other, touching his hat, while the domestic
waddled back, and closed the door, pluming himself upon having settled
the musician; but he had no sooner vanished, than the strain was taken up
again more uproariously than ever.

Out he rushed again in a twinkling--

"Fellow! I say--man! vot do you mean?"

"Vy, now didn't you tell me to go on?"