pothecary

"Git up—oh du," sez Miss Josephine, catching a sly peek at the 'pothecary, through her fingers.

"And mine," sez the 'pothecary, a getting up and a spreading his hand out on his yaller vest.

"I don't see anything over genteel in him, any how," sez the 'pothecary a looking sort of oneasy.

"I hope so too," sez the 'pothecary, a looking as if he'd jest eat a sour lemon, without any sweetening.

The 'pothecary raly felt as if he should bust, and he gin her a purty decent blowing up as they went along Chatham-street.