The bright and
lively shops were crowded; and groups of purchasers were
gathered round the stalls, that by the aid of glaring lamps
and flaunting lanthorns, displayed their wares.
"Come, come, it's a prime piece," said a jolly looking woman,
who was presiding at a stall which, though considerably
thinned by previous purchasers, still offered many temptations
to many who could not purchase.
"And so it is widow," said a little pale man, wistfully.
"Come, come, it's getting late, and your wife's ill; you're a
good soul, we'll say fi'pence a pound, and I'll throw you the
scrag end in for love."
"No butcher's meat to-morrow for us, widow," said the man.
"And why not, neighbour? With your wages, you ought to live
like a prize-fighter, or the mayor of Mowbray at least."
"Wages!" said the man, "I wish you may get 'em. Those
villains, Shuffle and Screw, have sarved me with another bate
ticket: and a pretty figure too."
"Oh! the carnal monsters!" exclaimed the widow. "If their day
don't come, the bloody-minded knaves!"
"And for small cops, too! Small cops be hanged! Am I the man
to send up a bad-bottomed cop, Widow Carey?"
"You sent up for snicks! I have known you man and boy John
Hill these twenty summers, and never heard a word against you
till you got into Shuffle and Screw's mill.
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