"Shoes, fellow!" says I, "I never saw your face before;" for I knew there was nothing for it but brazening it out. "Upon the honor of a gentleman," said I, turning round to the boys—they hesitated; and if the trick had turned in my favor, fifty of them would have siezed hold of Stiffelkind, and drubbed him soundly.
"Stop!" says Bunting (hang him!), "let's see the shoes—if they fit him, why, then, the cobbler's right"—they did fit me, and not only that, but the name of STUBBS was written in them at full length.
"Vat?" said Stiffelkind, "is he not a lort? so help me himmel, I never did vonce tink of looking at de shoes, which have been lying, ever since, in dis piece of brown paper;" and then gathering anger as he went on, thundered out so much of his abuse at me, in his German-English, that the boys roared with laughter. Swishtail came in in the midst of the disturbance, and asked what the noise meant.
"It’s only Lord Cornwallis, sir," said the boys, "battling with his shoemaker about the price of a pair of top-boots."
