"To be sure it would, my dear," replied the Jew.
"But I didn't blab it, did I, Fagin?" demanded Tom, pouring question upon question with great volubility.
"No, no, to be sure," replied the Jew; "you were too stout-hearted for that,—a deal too stout my dear."
"Perhaps I was," rejoined Tom, looking round; "and if I was, what's to laugh at in that; eh, Fagin?"
The Jew, perceiving that Mr. Chitling was considerably roused, hastened to assure him that nobody was laughing, and, to prove the gravity of the company, appealed to Master Bates, the principal offender; but unfortunately Charley, in opening his mouth to reply that he was never more serious in his life, was unable to prevent the escape of such a violent roar that the abused Mr. Chitling without any preliminary ceremonies rushed across the room, and aimed a blow at the offender, who, being skilful in evading pursuit, ducked to avoid it, and chose his time so well that it lighted on
