"So I ask 'er the question, doubting like, and she up and say, all
saucy as a jay-bird, 'Why, certainly you didn't ought to call 'im so,'
she say.
"'Question is, Maria,' I says, 'in that case what did I ought to call
'im?'
"'And I can tell yer that too, Dad,' she say--Maria did. 'You didn't
ought to call 'im 'Artz Mountain roller, but ha-Hartz Mountain roller.
That's the way to call 'im,' she says--impident little 'ussy! But
there--what's in a name, as the white blackbird said when 'e sat on a
wooden milestone eating a red blackberry? Still, 'e weren't running
a live-stock emporium, I expect, when 'e ask such a question as that
'ere. There's a good deal in 'ow you call a bird, or a dawg or a
guinea-pig neither, if you want to pass 'im on to a customer in a
honest way o' trade."
I assured Mr. Punt I had not a doubt of it.
"But I shall be a-practisin' my haitches, Sir," he promised
me, as I went out with the canary seed which I had called to
purchase--"practise 'em 'ard, I shall. It's what I ain't a-got at the
present moment--'a fine ear for the haspirate.' Beeutiful expression
that, Sir, if you'll excuse me sayin' so.
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