'What have you got to
say to me?'
'Just this, Mister Pinch,' retorted Jonas, thrusting his face so close
to Tom's that Tom was obliged to retreat a step. 'I advise you to keep
your own counsel, and to avoid title-tattle, and not to cut in where
you're not wanted. I've heard something of you, my friend, and your
meek ways; and I recommend you to forget 'em till I am married to one
of Pecksniff's gals, and not to curry favour among my relations, but
to leave the course clear. You know, when curs won't leave the course
clear, they're whipped off; so this is kind advice. Do you understand?
Eh? Damme, who are you,' cried Jonas, with increased contempt, 'that
you should walk home with THEM, unless it was behind 'em, like any other
servant out of livery?'
'Come!' cried Tom, 'I see that you had better get off the stile, and let
me pursue my way home. Make room for me, if you please.'
'Don't think it!' said Jonas, spreading out his legs. 'Not till I
choose. And I don't choose now. What! You're afraid of my making you
split upon some of your babbling just now, are you, Sneak?'
'I am not afraid of many things, I hope,' said Tom; 'and certainly not
of anything that you will do.
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