“Nonsense,” said Arthur, “don’t you think I can judge for myself, as regards that?  Abel, do tell Mr. Hubbard of our little adventure in the bakehouse.”

“With pleasure,” said Abel, “especially as you two have not let me say a word yet.  Well, Mr. Hubbard, Arthur and I having nothing else to do, got hungry, and as it was a fine evening, thought we would walk out in search of something to satisfy our appetites, and there being a pretty girl in Brown’s bakehouse, who waits on customers, we took that direction.  Arthur, you know, is engaged to be married, and has no excuse for such things, but I having no such ties, am free to search for pretty faces, and to make the most of it when I find them.  We walked on, arm-in-arm, and when we got to the shop, there stood Mrs. Brown behind the counter, big as all out doors, with a very red face, and in a violent perspiration; there was some thing wrong with the old lady ’twas easy to see.”

“‘Well, Mrs. Brown,’ said Arthur, for I was looking in the glass cases and under the counter for the pretty face, ‘have you any rusk?’

“‘Yes, sir, we always have rusk,’ said Mrs. Brown, tartly.

“’Will you give us some, and some cakes, or whatever you have? and then we will go and get some soda water, Abel.’

“Mrs. Brown fussed about like a ‘bear with a sore head,’ and at last she broke out against that gal.

“‘Where on earth has she put that cake?’ said she.  ’I sent her in here with it an hour ago; just like her, lazy, good-for-nothing Irish thing.  They’re nothing but white niggers, after all, these Irish.  Here, Ann,’ she bawled out, ‘come here!’

“‘Coming,’ said Ann, from within the glass door.

“‘Come this minute,’ said the old woman, and Ann’s pretty Irish face showed itself immediately.

“’Where’s that ‘lection cake I told you to bring here?’

“‘You didn’t tell me to bring no cake here, Mrs. Brown,’ said Ann.

“‘I did, you little liar, you,’ said Mrs. Brown.  ’You Irish are born liars.  Go, bring it here.’

“Ann disappeared, and soon returned, looking triumphant.  ’Mr. Brown says he brought it in when you told him, and covered it in that box—­so I aint such a liar, after all.’

“‘You are,’ said Mrs. Brown, ‘and a thief too.’

“Ann’s Irish blood was up.

“‘I’m neither,’ said she; ’but I’m an orphan, and poor; that’s why I’m scolded and cuffed about.’

“Mrs. Brown’s blood was up too, and she struck the poor girl in the face, and her big, hard hand was in an instant covered with blood, which spouted out from Ann’s nose.

“’Now take that for your impudence, and you’ll get worse next time you go disputing with me.’

“‘I declare, Mrs. Brown,’ said Arthur, ’this is, I thought, a free country.  I did not know you could take the law into your own hands in that style.’