nswered,--

"Really, my love, what a very vulgar-looking creechar!"

"Not nearly so vulgar as Locust's client," rejoined her husband. "You
should see him."

"Thank you, my love, it is quite enough to catch a glimpse of the
superior person of the two."

Mr. Prigg seemed to think it a qualifying circumstance that Snooks was a
more vulgar-looking man than Bumpkin, whereas a moment's consideration
showed Mrs. Prigg how illogical that was. It is the intrinsic and
personal value that one has to measure things by. This value could not
be heightened by contrast. Mrs. Prigg's curiosity, however, naturally
led her to inquire who the other creechar was? As if she had never heard
of _Bumpkin_ v. _Snooks_, although she had actually got the case on four
wheels and was riding in it at that very moment; as if in fact she was
not practically all Bumpkin, as a silkworm may be said to be all mulberry
leaves. As if she knew nothing of her husband's business! Her ideas
were not of this world. Give her a church to build, she'd harass people
for subscriptions; or let it be a meeting to clothe the naked savage,
Mrs. Prigg would be there. She knew nothing of clothing Bumpkin! But
she did interest herself sufficiently in her husband's conversation to
ask, in answer to his reference to Locust's disreputable client,

"And who is he, pray?"

"My darling," said Prigg, "you must have heard of Snooks?"

"Oh," drawled Mrs. Prigg, "do you mean the creechar who sells coals?"

"The same, my dear."

"And are you engaged against _that_ man? How very dreadful!"

"My darling," observed Mr. Prigg, "it is not for us to choose our
opponents; nor indeed, for the matter of that, our clients."

"I can quite perceive that," returned the lady, "or you would never have
chosen such men--dear me!"

"We are like physicians," returned Mr. Prigg, "called in in case of
need."

"And the healing virtues of your profession must not be confined to rich
patients," said Mrs. Prigg, in her jocular manner.

"By no means," was the good man's reply; "justice is as much the right of
the poor as the rich--so is the air we breathe--so is everything." And
he put his fingers together again, as was his wont whenever he uttered a
philosophical or moral platitude.

So I saw in my dream that the good man and his ladylike wife rode through
the beautiful lanes, and over the breezy common on that lovely summer
afternoon, and as they drew up on the summit of a hill w