“To tell you the truth Wegg,” said Boffin, “I wasn’t thinking of poetry, except in so fur as this:⁠—If you was to happen now and then to feel yourself in the mind to tip me and Mrs. Boffin one of your ballads, why then we should drop into poetry.”

“I follow you, sir,” said Wegg. “But not being a regular musical professional, I should be loath to engage myself for that; and therefore when I dropped into poetry, I should ask to be considered so fur, in the light of a friend.”

At this, Mr. Boffin’s eyes sparkled, and he shook Silas earnestly by the hand: protesting that it was more than he could have asked, and that he took it very kindly indeed.

“What do you think of the terms, Wegg?” Mr. Boffin then demanded, with unconcealed anxiety.