That's a good boy, said the little gentleman. Never mind your brothers. I'll talk to them.
Pray, sir, don't do any such thing, said Gluck. I can't let you stay till they come; they'd be the death of me.
Dear me, said the old gentleman, I'm very sorry to hear that. How long may I stay?
Only till the mutton's done, sir, replied Gluck; and it's very brown.
Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen and sat himself down close to the fire,
with the top of his cap reaching up the chimney, for it was a great deal too high for the roof.
You'll soon dry there, sir, said Gluck; and sat down again to turn the mutton. But the old gentleman did not dry.
He went on drip, drip, dripping among the ashes, and the fire fizzed, and sputtered, and began to look very black.
Surely, never was there such a cloak; every fold in it ran water like a little river. I beg pardon, sir, said Gluck at length,
after watching for a quarter of an hour the water spreading in long streams over the floor,
may I take your cloak? No, thank you, said the old gentleman.
Your cap, sir? I am all right, thank you, said the old gentleman, rather gruffly.
But, sir, I'm very sorry, said Gluck, but, really, sir, you're, putting the fire out.
It'll take longer to do the mutton, then, replied his visitor. Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of his guest,
who was sometimes bold and commanding and other times humble. He turned away for another five minutes.
That mutton looks very nice, said the old gentleman at length. Can't you give me a little bit? Impossible, sir, said Gluck.