I
wish he was dumb. I wish he was deaf. I wish he was blind. Hang
him,' cried Brass, as the chant began again. 'I wish he was dead!'
Giving utterance to these friendly aspirations in behalf of his
client, Mr Sampson composed his face into its usual state of
smoothness, and waiting until the shriek came again and was dying
away, went up to the wooden house, and knocked at the door.
'Come in!' cried the dwarf.
'How do you do to-night sir?' said Sampson, peeping in. 'Ha ha ha!
How do you do sir? Oh dear me, how very whimsical! Amazingly
whimsical to be sure!'
'Come in, you fool!' returned the dwarf, 'and don't stand there
shaking your head and showing your teeth. Come in, you false
witness, you perjurer, you suborner of evidence, come in!'
'He has the richest humour!' cried Brass, shutting the door behind
him; 'the most amazing vein of comicality! But isn't it rather
injudicious, sir--?'
'What?' demanded Quilp. 'What, Judas?'
'Judas!' cried Brass. 'He has such extraordinary spirits! His
humour is so extremely playful! Judas! Oh yes--dear me, how very
good! Ha ha ha!'
All this time, Sampson was rubbing his hands, and staring, with
ludicrous surprise and dismay, at a great, goggle-eyed, blunt-nosed
figure-head of some old ship, which was reared up against the wall
in a corner near the stove, looking like a goblin or hideous idol
whom the dwarf worshipped.
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