“Were you at his performance, Joe?” I inquired.

“I were,” said Joe, with emphasis and solemnity.

“Was there a great sensation?”

“Why,” said Joe, “yes, there certainly were a peck of orange-peel.  Partickler, when he see the ghost.  Though I put it to yourself, sir, whether it were calc’lated to keep a man up to his work with a good hart, to be continiwally cutting in betwixt him and the Ghost with “Amen!” A man may have had a misfortun’ and been in the Church,” said Joe, lowering his voice to an argumentative and feeling tone, “but that is no reason why you should put him out at such a time.  Which I meantersay, if the ghost of a man’s own father cannot be allowed to claim his attention, what can, Sir?  Still more, when his mourning ’at is unfortunately made so small as that the weight of the black feathers brings it off, try to keep it on how you may.”

A ghost-seeing effect in Joe’s own countenance informed me that Herbert had entered the room.  So, I presented Joe to Herbert, who held out his hand; but Joe backed from it, and held on by the bird’s-nest.

“Your servant, Sir,” said Joe, “which I hope as you and Pip” — here his eye fell on the Avenger, who was putting some toast on table, and so plainly denoted an intention to make that young gentleman one of the family, that I frowned it down and confused him more — “I meantersay, you two gentlemen — which I hope as you get your elths in this close spot?  For the present may be a werry good inn, according to London opinions,” said Joe, confidentially, “and I believe its character do stand i; but I wouldn’t keep a pig in it myself — not in the case that I wished him to fatten wholesome and to eat with a meller flavour on him.”

Having borne this flattering testimony to the merits of our dwelling-place, and having incidentally shown this tendency to call me “sir,” Joe, being invited to sit down to table, looked all round the room for a suitable spot on which to deposit his hat — as if it were only on some very few rare substances in nature that it could find a resting place — and ultimately stood it on an extreme corner of the chimney-piece, from which it ever afterwards fell off at intervals.

“Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?” asked Herbert, who always presided of a morning.

“Thankee, Sir,” said Joe, stiff from head to foot, “I’ll take whichever is most agreeable to yourself.”

“What do you say to coffee?”

“Thankee, Sir,” returned Joe, evidently dispirited by the proposal, “since you are so kind as make chice of coffee, I will not run contrairy to your own opinions.  But don’t you never find it a little ’eating?”

“Say tea then,” said Herbert, pouring it out.

Here Joe’s hat tumbled off the mantel-piece, and he started out of his chair and picked it up, and fitted it to the same exact spot.  As if it were an absolute point of good breeding that it should tumble off again soon.