Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. “I have nothing to say to you. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. And yet—you millionaires should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. Poor little one.
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