"
"Well, well, mother, I don't care a snuff if you were a Sesayder or even
a Tommykite--"
"A Tommykite?" cried Coristine, anxious to extend his knowledge and
increase his vocabulary.
"It's a man called Thomas," answered the interrupted husband, "that made
a new sect out our way, and they call his following Tommykites; I dunno
if he's a relation of the captain or not. Give a dog a bad name, they
say, and you might as well hang him; but the Tommykites are living, in
spite of their name."
"Henry Cooke, your remarks are very unnecessary and irrevelant," said
his wife, falling into bad English over a long adjective.
"I was just going to say, mother, that I wanted you to try and keep
these gentlemen from going beyond our house to-night, because you can
put it so much better than I can."
The old lady, thereupon, so judiciously blended coaxing with the apology
of disparagement, that the only alternative left the pedestrians was
that of remaining; for to go on would have been to treat the
disparagement as real, and a sufficient cause for their seeking other
shelter. The house they entered was small but neat.
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