"Hah!" he went on, handing me the bread-and-butter. "And air you
a-going to Joseph?"
"In heaven's name," said I, firing in spite of myself, "what does
it matter to you where I am going? Leave that teapot alone."
It was the worst course I could have taken, because it gave
Pumblechook the opportunity he wanted.
"Yes, young man," said he, releasing the handle of the article in
question, retiring a step or two from my table, and speaking for
the behoof of the landlord and waiter at the door, "I will leave
that teapot alone. You are right, young man. For once, you are
right. I forgit myself when I take such an interest in your
breakfast, as to wish your frame, exhausted by the debilitating
effects of prodigygality, to be stimilated by the 'olesome
nourishment of your forefathers. And yet," said Pumblechook,
turning to the landlord and waiter, and pointing me out at arm's
length, "this is him as I ever sported with in his days of happy
infancy! Tell me not it cannot be; I tell you this is him!"
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