“Shall, shall! I say!” answered the chimneysweeper, sturdily; “Hark'ee, my duck,” chucking Cecilia under the chin, “don't be cajoled, nick that spark! never mind gold trappings; none of his own; all a take-in; hired for eighteenpence; not worth a groat. Never set your heart on a fine outside, nothing within. Bristol stones won't buy stock: only wants to chouse you.” “What do you mean by that, you little old scrub!” cried the imperious Turk; “would you provoke me to soil my fingers by pulling that beastly snub nose?” For Mr Briggs had saved himself any actual mask, by merely blacking his face with soot. “Beastly snub nose!” sputtered out the chimneysweeper in much wrath, “good nose enough; don't want a better; good as another man's. Where's the harm on't?” “How could this blackguard get in?” cried the Turk, “I believe he's a mere common chimneysweeper out of the streets, for he's all over dirt and filth. I never saw such a dress at a masquerade before in my life.” “All the better,” returned the other; “would not change. What do think it cost?” “Cost? Why, not a crown.” “A crown? ha! ha!--a pot o' beer! Little Tom borrowed it; had it of our own sweep. Said 'twas for himself. I bid him a pint; rascal would not take less.” “Did your late uncle,” said the white domino in a low voice to Cecilia, “chuse for two of your guardians Mr Harrel and Mr Briggs, to give you an early lesson upon the opposite errors of profusion and meanness?” “My uncle?” cried Cecilia, starting, “were you acquainted with my uncle?” “No,” said he, “for my happiness I knew him not.” “You would have owed no loss of happiness to an acquaintance with him,” said Cecilia, very seriously, “for he was one who dispensed to his friends nothing but good.” “Perhaps so,” said the domino; “but I fear I should have found the good he dispensed through his niece not quite unmixed with evil!” “What's here?” cried the chimney-sweeper, stumbling over the fiend, “what's this black thing? Don't like it; looks like the devil. You shan't stay with it; carry you away; take care of you myself.” He then offered Cecilia his hand; but the black gentleman, raising himself upon his knees before her, paid her, in dumb shew, the humblest devoirs, yet prevented her from removing. “Ah ha!” cried the chimney-sweeper, significantly nodding his head, “smell a rat! a sweetheart in disguise. No bamboozling! it won't do; a'n't so soon put upon. If you've got any thing to say, tell _me_, that's the way. Where's the cash? Got ever a _rental_? Are warm? That's the point; are warm?” The fiend, without returning any answer, continued his homage to Cecilia; at which the enraged chimney-sweeper exclaimed, “Come, come with me! won't be imposed upon; an old fox,--understand trap!” He then again held out his hand, but Cecilia, pointing to the fiend, answered, “How can I come, sir?” “Shew you the way,” cried he, “shovel him off.” And taking his shovel, he very roughly set about removing him.