'You left Mr Pecksniff!' cried the tollman, folding his arms, and
spreading his legs. 'I should as soon have thought of his head leaving
him.'
'Aye!' said Tom, 'so should I, yesterday. Good night!'
If a heavy drove of oxen hadn't come by immediately, the tollman would
have gone down to the village straight, to inquire into it. As
things turned out, he smoked another pipe, and took his wife into his
confidence. But their united sagacity could make nothing of it, and they
went to bed--metaphorically--in the dark. But several times that night,
when a waggon or other vehicle came through, and the driver asked
the tollkeeper 'What news?' he looked at the man by the light of his
lantern, to assure himself that he had an interest in the subject, and
then said, wrapping his watch-coat round his legs:
'You've heerd of Mr Pecksniff down yonder?'
'Ah! sure-ly!'
'And of his young man Mr Pinch, p'raps?'
'Ah!'
'They've parted.'
After every one of these disclosures, the tollman plunged into his
house again, and was seen no more, while the other side went on in great
amazement.
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