' 'I'll not wait till to-morrow to give you
your title, my Lord Mayor,' says he, with a bow and a smile; 'you
are Lord Mayor DE FACTO, if not DE JURE. Good night, my lord.'
The Lord Mayor elect thought of this, and turning to the stranger,
and sternly bidding him 'go out of his private counting-house,'
brought forward the three hundred and seventy-two fat capons, and
went on with his account.
'Do you remember,' said the other, stepping forward, - 'DO you
remember little Joe Toddyhigh?'
The port wine fled for a moment from the fruiterer's nose as he
muttered, 'Joe Toddyhigh! What about Joe Toddyhigh?'
'I am Joe Toddyhigh,' cried the visitor. 'Look at me, look hard at
me, - harder, harder. You know me now? You know little Joe again?
What a happiness to us both, to meet the very night before your
grandeur! O! give me your hand, Jack, - both hands, - both, for
the sake of old times.'
'You pinch me, sir. You're a-hurting of me,' said the Lord Mayor
elect pettishly. 'Don't, - suppose anybody should come, - Mr.
Toddyhigh, sir.'
'Mr. Toddyhigh!' repeated the other ruefully.
'O, don't bother,' said the Lord Mayor elect, scratching his head.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37