I am not polite!" "Not very, I think." "Sir," said Gridley, putting down the child and going up to him as if he meant to strike him, "do you know anything of Courts of Equity ?" "Perhaps I do, to my sorrow." "To your sorrow ?" said the man, pausing in his wrath, "if so, I beg your pardon.

I am not polite, I know.

I beg your pardon! Sir," with renewed violence, "I have been dragged for five and twenty years over burning iron, and I have lost the habit of treading upon velvet.

Go into the Court of Chancery yonder and ask what is one of the standing jokes that brighten up their business sometimes, and they will tell you that the best joke they have is the man from Shropshire.

I," he said, beating one hand on the other passionately, "am the man from Shropshire." "I believe I and my family have also had the honour of furnishing some entertainment in the same grave place," said my guardian composedly.