" MUM." 57 



to be a willing listener then and there, by a pull, which may be 

 described as little short of " detonating," at the straight piece of 

 hair sprouting in the centre of his forehead in the form of a 

 cluck's tail. 



" You know what c mum' means, don't ye % " interrogated his 

 employer, with a sullen, scowling look, which slowly measured 

 Puffy Doddles from heel to head. 



"To hold my tongue, sir," blandly replied Robert Top's 

 best lad, with a ficlgetty shuffle of his feet. 



"Ex-actly so," rejoined Mr. James Sloper, staring Puffy 

 Doddles so unpleasantly in the face, that it became flushed with 

 heat, and bore the appearance of having been roasted, and rather 

 " over done " in an incredibly short space of time. " Ex-actly 

 so," repeated he. "That's it. To hold your tongue. Mind 

 and recollect that f mum ' means to hold your tongue." 



Puffy Doddles thought — but adopted the wise precaution of 

 giving no expression to the thought — that as he had conveyed a 

 prompt and correct definition of ' mum/ the necessity was small, 

 if not altogether limited beyond the sense of comprehension, for 

 Mr. James Sloper to echo the sentiment in the very same words 

 used by himself. 



" Now, finding you know what * mum ' means," resumed Mr. 

 James Sloper, "just give your attention to what I am going to 

 say." 



Puffy Doddles looked the personification of attention. 



"You'll give him" — Mr. James Sloper jerked his head 

 towards Sunshine — " a good, rousing gallop this morning." 



Robert Top's best lad felt a warm, expanding glow of 

 pleasure spread through his system at the exhilarating diversion 

 in store. 



"As you come to Chalk Hill at a canter, mend the pace, 

 and" — here Mr. James Sloper raised a forefinger, as if to draw 

 particular attention to what he was about to add — "as you 

 come to the turn of the lands, hold him well together, and, with 

 your heels in his ribs, send him straight across the arable." 



