"I suppose, fellow," says I, "that is my business and not yours. Either
make the boots or not--but when you speak to a man of my rank, speak
respectfully!" And I poured out a number of oaths, in order to impress
him with a notion of my respectability.

They had the desired effect. "Stay, sir," says he. "I have a nice littel
pair of dop-boots dat I tink will jost do for you." And he produced,
sure enough, the most elegant things I ever saw. "Day were made," said
he, "for de Honorable Mr. Stiffney, of de Gards, but were too small."

"Ah, indeed!" said I. "Stiffney is a relation of mine. And what, you
scoundrel, will you have the impudence to ask for these things?" He
replied, "Three pounds."

"Well," said I, "they are confoundedly dear; but, as you will have a
long time to wait for your money, why, I shall have my revenge you see."
The man looked alarmed, and began a speech: "Sare,--I cannot let dem go
vidout"--but a bright thought struck me, and I interrupted--"Sir! don't
sir me. Take off the boots, fellow, and, hark ye, when you speak to a
nobleman, don't say--Sir."

"A hundert tousand pardons, my lort," says he: "if I had known you were
a lort, I vood never have called you--Sir. Vat name shall I put down in
my books?"

"Name?--oh! why, Lord Cornwallis, to be sure," said I, as I walked off
in the boots.

"And vat shall I do vid my lort's shoes?"