“Minnow!” repeated the Corporal gruffly, “ask your honour’s pardon. Minnow!--I have fished with the yellow-dun these twenty years, and never knew it fail before. Minnow!--baugh! But ask pardon; your honour is very welcome to fish with a minnow if you please it.”
“Thank you, Bunting. And pray what sport have you had to-day?”
“Oh,--good, good,” quoth the Corporal, snatching up his basket and closing the cover, lest the young Squire should pry into it. No man is more tenacious of his secrets than your true angler. “Sent the best home two hours ago; one weighed three pounds, on the faith of a man; indeed, I’m satisfied now; time to give up;” and the Corporal began to disjoint his rod.
“Ah, Sir!” said he, with a half sigh, “a pretty river this, don’t mean to say it is not; but the river Lea for my money. You know the Lea?--not a morning’s walk from Lunnun. Mary Gibson, my first sweetheart, lived by the bridge,--caught such a trout there by the by!--had beautiful eyes--black, round as a cherry--five feet eight without shoes--might have listed in the forty-second.”
“Who, Bunting!” said Walter smiling, “the lady or the trout?”
“Augh!--baugh!--what? Oh, laughing at me, your honour, you’re welcome, Sir. Love’s a silly thing--know the world now--have not fallen in love these ten years. I doubt--no offence, Sir, no offence--I doubt whether your honour and Miss Ellinor can say as much.”
“I and Miss Ellinor!--you forge yourself strangely, Bunting,” said Walter, colouring with anger.
“Beg pardon, Sir, beg pardon--rough soldier--lived away from the world so long, words slipped out of my mouth--absent without leave.”
“But why,” said Walter, smothering or conquering his vexation,--“why couple me with Miss Ellinor? Did you imagine that we,--we were in love with each other?”
“Indeed, Sir, and if I did, ‘tis no more than my neighbours imagine too.”
“Humph! your neighbours are very silly, then, and very wrong.”
“Beg pardon, Sir, again--always getting askew. Indeed some did say it was Miss Madeline, but I says,--says I,--‘No! I’m a man of the world--see through a millstone; Miss Madeline’s too easy like; Miss Nelly blushes when he speaks; scarlet is love’s regimentals--it was ours in the forty-second, edged with yellow--pepper and salt pantaloons! For my part I think,--but I’ve no business to think, howsomever--baugh!”