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Just then, father comes up and says, "Count them punnits, Dick! there ought to be forty on 'em. Twenty picked large for Mr. Moses, and twenty usuals for Marts! two of our best customers they was. Well, Dick, he counts 'em, and soon misses one. 'Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, he sez, and no more; 'but 'ere's a empty punnit, he sez.
I reckon they had sent Mary out in the candle-box as a orphan instead o' havin' a father. Terrible awkward! Then, when he'd drinked up the money, the man come again in his usuals an' he kept hammerin' on and hammerin' on about his duty to his pore dear wife, an' what he'd do for his dear daughter in Lunnon, till the tears runned down his two dirty cheeks an' he come away with more money.
It seemed the easiest road to take. 'Any time or other suits me, I reckon. He ain't thrivin' where he is, an' I paid eighteen shillin' for him. He crossed his hands on his stick and gave no further sign of life. 'Is that all? Midmore stammered. 'All now excep'' he glanced fretfully at the table beside him 'excep' my usuals. Where's that Rhoda? Midmore rang the bell.
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