"Respecting that second-hand wiolinceller, governor—could you recommend me such a thing?"
"Scores," says Mr. Bagnet.
"I am obliged to you," returns Mr. Bucket, squeezing his hand. "You're a friend in need. A good tone, mind you! My friend is a regular dab at it. Ecod, he saws away at Mozart and Handel and the rest of the big-wigs like a thorough workman. And you needn't," says Mr. Bucket in a considerate and private voice, "you needn't commit yourself to too low a figure, governor. I don't want to pay too large a price for my friend, but I want you to have your proper percentage and be remunerated for your loss of time. That is but fair. Every man must live, and ought to it."
Mr. Bagnet shakes his head at the old girl to the effect that they have found a jewel of price.
"Suppose I was
