_Sus_. She madded me first: what else when she wouldn't believe a word I said? She'd ha' sworn on the gospel book, we sent the parcel up the spout. But she'll believe _you_, an' give you something, and then we'll have a chop! _Mat_. How can you expect that, Sue, when the work's lost? _Sus_. Never mind; you go and see. _Mat_. I shan't take it, Susan. I couldn't. _Sus_. Stuff and nonsense! I'll wait you round the corner: I don't like the smell o' them pastry things. _Exit_. MATTIE _walks past the window_. _Mat_. I don't like going. It makes me feel a thief to be suspected. _Bill_. Lor! it's our Mattie! There's our Mattie!--Mattie! Mattie! _Mat_. Ah, Bill! you're there--are you? _Bill_. Yes, Mattie. It's a tart-show. You walks up and takes yer chice;--leastways, you makes it: somebody else takes it. _Mat_. Wouldn't you like to _take_ your choice sometimes, Bill? _Bill_. In course I would. _Mat_. Then why don't you work, and better yourself a bit? _Bill_. Bless you, Mattie! myself is werry comf'able. He never complains. _Mat_. You're hungry sometimes,--ain't you? _Bill_. Most remarkable 'ungry, Mattie--this werry moment. Odd you should ask now--ain't it? _Mat_. You would get plenty to eat if you would work. _Bill_. Thank you--I'd rayther not. Them as ain't 'ungry never enj'ys their damaged tarts. If I'm 'appy, vere's the odds? as the cat said to the mouse as wanted to be let off the engagement. Why should I work more'n any other gen'leman? _Mat_. A gentleman that don't work is a curse to his neighbours, Bill. _Bill_. Bless you, Mattie! I ain't a curse--nohow to nobody. I don't see as you've got any call to say that, Mattie. I don't go fakin' clies, or crackin' cribs--nothin' o' the sort. An' I don't mind doin' of a odd job, if it _is_ a odd one. Don't go for to say that again, Mattie. _Mat_. I won't, then, Bill. But just look at yourself!--You're all in rags. _Bill_. Rags is the hairier, as the Skye terrier said to the black-an'-tan.--I shouldn't object to a new pair of old trousers, though. _Mat_. Why don't you have a pair of real new ones? If you would only sweep a crossing-- _Bill_. There ain't, a crossin' but what's took. Besides, my legs ain't put together for one place all day long. It ain't to be done, Mattie. They can't do it. _Mat_. There's the shoe-black business, then. _Bill_. That ain't so bad, acause you can shoulder your box and trudge. But if it's all the same to you, Mattie, I'd rayther enj'y life: they say it's short. _Mat_. But it ain't the same to me. It's so bad for you to be idle, Bill! _Bill_. Not as I knows on. I'm tollable jolly, so long's I gets the browns for my bed. _Mat_. Wouldn't you like a bed with a blanket to it? _Bill_. Well, yes--if it was guv to me. But I don't go in for knocking of yourself about, to sleep warm.