if he knew of a boy to go and play there? And couldn't Uncle Pumblechook, being always considerate and thoughtful for us — though you may not think it, Joseph,” in a tone of the deepest reproach, as if he were the most callous of nephews, “then mention this boy, standing Prancing here” — which I solemnly declare I was not doing — “that I have for ever been a willing slave to?”
“Good again!” cried Uncle Pumblechook.
“Well put! Prettily pointed! Good indeed! Now Joseph, you know the case.”
“No, Joseph,” said my sister, still in a reproachful manner, while Joe apologetically drew the back of his hand across and across his nose, “you do