Probably he was the worst boy in existence--at least, Lizarann thought he was. She was too young to appreciate his only virtue, a total absence of hypocrisy. "Saying as it was _your_ eyes as was out, and it didn't hurt _him_." Jim seemed mightily amused. "What did you say to him over that, little lass?" said he. "Didn't say nuffint!" And, indeed, Lizarann had not seen her way to quarrelling with two such obvious truths. "What else was he a-saying? He said a bit more than that. I could hear him giving it mouth." "Sayin' he'd four nuts he hadn't ate, and me to guess which 'and they was in beyont his back for a 'apenny." Lizarann then explained the proposed deal at some length. "He's a nice young sportin' charackter! Thimble-rigging isn't in it. Why, lassie, if you _had_ guessed right, he'd just have swopped 'em across, and took your ha'penny. He wants attendin' to with a rope's end, he does--wants his trousers spilin'. His mother she sells the fried eels and winkles, next door against the little shop where I"--Jim hesitated a minute--"where I get my shaving-soap." For Jim remembered in time that his connection with this shop was not to come to his child's ears. His board was to be kept in the background. Lizarann wanted badly to frame a question about this boy. Were all boys nefarious whose mothers sold fried eels and winkles? And if so, had this one acquired a low moral tone by contact with fried fish, or had his parent's humble walk in life resulted from his depravity? Lizarann gave up the idea of asking this question. It was too complex. But she could get information about the barber's shop. She approached the subject indirectly. "Bridgetticks she can read what's wrote up on shaving-shops." "What can she read on 'em, little lass?" "She can read Easy Shaving Twopence. And Hegg-Shampoo Fourpence. And Fresh Water Every Customer. Round in the winder in Cazenove Street." "Brayvo, Bridgetticks! But my little lass she's going to read ever so well as Bridgetticks--ah! and a fat lot better. And larn manners belike, as well!" "Bridgetticks said she'd learn Simpson's boy manners. Down the yard where there's a dog killed his sister's cat." Lizarann spoke evidently with some idea of joining the class. But her father had other views. "Bridgetticks indeed! She couldn't teach manners to a biled owl, to speak of. She better give her time to studying of 'em herself. Whatever was the name she called the gentleman, lass? Tell us again." "The long gentleman?" "Ah!" "She didn't call him nuffint." "Well, then--the short gentleman." "A Cure." "Well!--that wasn't manners, lassie. She had ought to have called him Sir--or his name, for that matter, if she'd come by it. Couldn't she say his name with Mister? In course she could, only she didn't know it."