But that 'ere head is an oncommon head, and,
bless the boy, if he should lose that, I do'no' where he'd git another
like it! Come, no more fuss now! I got to make some gruel for this 'ere
poor, wet, starvin' critter. That hash a'n't the thing for him,
mammy,--you'd ought to know! He wants somefin' light and comfortin',
that'll warm his in'ards, and make him sweat, bless him!--Joey! Joey!
give up that 'ere hat now!"
"Take it, then! Mean old thing,--I don't want it!"
Joe extended it on the point of the umbrella; but just as Bill was
reaching to receive it, he gave it a little toss, which sent it into the
chip-basket.
"Might know I'd had on your hat!" and the little rogue scratched his
head furiously.
"I shall certainly massacre that child some fine morning!" muttered
Bill, ruefully extricating the insulted article from the basket. "Oh, my
gracious! only look at that, now, Creshy!" to his sister. "That's an
interesting object--isn't it?--for a gentleman to think of putting on to
his head Sunday morning!"
"Oh, Bill!" cried Creshy, "jest look a' Joe agin!"
Whilst he was sorrowfully restoring his hat to its pristine shape, he
had been robbed of his coat.
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