wanting to lay hold of him. From these Mr Venus rescues the canary in a
glass case, and shows it to the boy.

'There!' he whimpers. 'There's animation! On a twig, making up his mind
to hop! Take care of him; he's a lovely specimen.--And three is four.'

The boy gathers up his change and has pulled the door open by a leather
strap nailed to it for the purpose, when Venus cries out:

'Stop him! Come back, you young villain! You've got a tooth among them
halfpence.'

'How was I to know I'd got it? You giv it me. I don't want none of your
teeth; I've got enough of my own.' So the boy pipes, as he selects it
from his change, and throws it on the counter.

'Don't sauce ME, in the wicious pride of your youth,' Mr Venus retorts
pathetically.' Don't hit ME because you see I'm down. I'm low enough
without that. It dropped into the till, I suppose. They drop into
everything. There was two in the coffee-pot at breakfast time. Molars.'

'Very well, then,' argues the boy, 'what do you call names for?'

To which Mr Venus only replies, shaking his shock of dusty hair, and
winking his weak eyes, 'Don't sauce ME, in the wicious pride of your
youth; don't hit ME, because you see I'm down. You've no idea how small
you'd come out, if I had the articulating of you.'

This consideration seems to have its effect on the boy, for he goes out
grumbling.