John Barty frowned up at the ceiling, frowned down at the floor, and
finally spoke:

"What do you say to that, Natty Bell?"

"Why, I should say, John--hum!"

"Pray haven't you heard of a jolly young coal-heaver,
Who down at Hungerford used for to ply,
His daddles he used with such skill and dexterity
Winning each mill, sir, and blacking each eye."

"Ha!--I should say, John, that Adam being in the habit o' going
about--well, as you might put it--in a free and easy, airy manner,
fig leaves an' suchlike, John,--I should say as he didn't have no
call to be a gentleman, seeing as there weren't any tailors."

"Tailors!" exclaimed John, staring. "Lord! and what have tailors got
to do wi' it, Natty Bell?"

"A great deal more than you 'd think, John; everything, John, seeing
't was tailors as invented gentlemen as a matter o' trade, John. So,
if Barnabas wants to have a try at being one--he must first of all
go dressed in the fashion."

"That is very true," said Barnabas, nodding.

"Though," pursued Natty Bell, "if you were the best dressed, the
handsomest, the strongest, the bravest, the cleverest, the most
honorable man in the world--that wouldn't make you a gentleman. I