"Don't you wish you may get it?" replied Green. "I'll tell you what I'll do—I'll give you two for Willis, if you like."
"Who then?" asks Snooks.
"Hall and Brown."
"Wouldn't have 'em at a gift."
"Better than East, though; for they ain't quite so sharp," said Green, getting up and leaning his back against the mantelpiece—he wasn't a bad fellow, and couldn't help not being able to put down the unruly fifth form. His eye twinkled as he went on, " Did I ever tell you how the young vagabond sold me last half?"
"No—how?"
"Well, he never half cleaned my study out, only just stuck the candlesticks in the cupboard, and swept the crumbs on to the floor. So at last I was mortal angry, and had him up, made him go through the whole performance under my eyes: the dust the young scamp made nearly choked me, and showed that he hadn't swept the carpet before. Well, when it was all finished, 'Now, young gentleman,' says I, 'mind, I expect this to be done every morning, floor swept, table-cloth taken off and shaken, and everything dusted.' 'Very well,' grunts he. Not a bit of it though—I was quite sure in a day or two that he never took the table-cloth off even. So I laid a trap for him: I tore up some paper and put half-a-dozen bits on my table one night, and the cloth over them, as usual. Next morning after breakfast up I came, pulled off the cloth, and sure enough there was the paper, which fluttered down on to the floor. I was in a towering rage. 'I've got you now,' thought I, and sent for him, while I got out my cane. Up he came as cool
