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Dat is noting, nobody never pays; but he bought a pair of boots, and called himself Lord Cornvallis. And I was fool enough to believe him vonce. But look you, niece Magdalen, I 'ave got five tousand pounds: if you marry him I vill not give you a benny. But look you what I will gif you: I bromised you a bresent, and I will give you DESE!"
"Vy, Lort Cornvallis to be sure a very fat yong nobeman, vid red hair: he squints a little, and svears dreadfully." "There's no Lord Cornvallis here," said one; and there was a pause. "Stop! I have it," says that odious Bunting. "IT MUST BE STUBBS!" And "Stubbs! Stubbs!" every one cried out, while I was so busy at my book as not to hear a word.
"Vere is dat ornament to his Majesty's service?" I came in from the back shop, where I was polishing the boots, with one of them in my hand. "Look, my dear," says he, "here is an old friend of yours, his Excellency Lort Cornvallis! Who would have thought such a nobleman vood turn shoeblack? Captain Stobbs, here is your former flame, my dear niece, Miss Grotty.
Here, Betty, Bettchen, make de spare bed, and put a clean knife and fork; Lort Cornvallis is come to dine vid me." I lived with this strange old man for six weeks. I kept his books, and did what little I could to make myself useful: carrying about boots and shoes, as if I had never borne his Majesty's commission. He gave me no money, but he fed and lodged me comfortably.
A sudden trembling seized me I knew it was Stiffelkind. What had brought him here? He talked loud, and seemed angry. So I rushed into the school-room, and burying my head between my hands, began reading for dear life. "I vant Lort Cornvallis," said the horrid bootmaker. "His lortship belongs, I know, to dis honorable school, for I saw him vid de boys at chorch yesterday." "Lord who?"
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