"Good
evening to you, honored sir," said he, making a low bow, and still
retaining his hold of the skirt. "I pray you tell me whereabouts is
the dwelling of my kinsman, Major Molineux."
The youth's question was uttered very loudly; and one of the
barbers, whose razor was descending on a well-soaped chin, and another
who was dressing a Ramillies wig, left their occupations, and came
to the door. The citizen, in the meantime, turned a long-favored
countenance upon Robin, and answered him in a tone of excessive
anger and annoyance. His two sepulchral hems, however, broke into
the very centre of his rebuke, with most singular effect, like a
thought of the cold grave obtruding among wrathful passions.
"Let go my garment, fellow! I tell you, I know not the man you
speak of. What! I have authority, I have- hem, hem- authority; and
if this be the respect you show for your betters, your feet shall be
brought acquainted with the stocks by daylight, tomorrow morning!"
Robin released the old man's skirt, and hastened away, pursued by
an ill-mannered roar of laughter from the barber's shop. He was at
first considerably surprised by the result of his question, but, being
a shrewd youth, soon thought himself able to account for the mystery.
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