“Appears to be rather a ’arty old cock, too,” said Mr. Wegg, as before; “Good morning to you , sir.”

“Do you remember me, then?” asked his new acquaintance, stopping in his amble, one-sided, before the stall, and speaking in a pounding way, though with great good-humour.

“I have noticed you go past our house, sir, several times in the course of the last week or so.”

“Our house,” repeated the other. “Meaning⁠—?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Wegg, nodding, as the other pointed the clumsy forefinger of his right glove at the corner house.

“Oh! Now, what,” pursued the old fellow, in an inquisitive manner, carrying his knotted stick in his left arm as if it were a baby, “what do they allow you now?”