I ought to have begun with a word of explanation, but it's my way to make short cuts at things.

I always was a pepperer.

You Bob Gliddery there, put the chain upon the door and get ye down to your supper.' With an alacrity that seemed no less referable to the pepperer fact than to the supper fact, Bob obeyed, and his boots were heard descending towards the bed of the river.
'Lizzie Hexam, Lizzie Hexam,' then began Miss Potterson, 'how often have I held out to you the opportunity of getting clear of your father, and doing well ?' 'Very often, Miss.' 'Very often?
Yes! And I might as well have spoken to the iron funnel of the strongest sea-going steamer that passes the Fellowship Porters.' 'No, Miss,' Lizzie pleaded; 'because that would not be thankful, and I am.' 'I vow and declare I am half ashamed of myself for taking such an interest in you,' said Miss Abbey, pettishly, 'for I don't believe I should do it if you were not good-looking.

Why ain't you ugly ?' Lizzie merely answered this difficult question with an apologetic glance.
'However, you ain't,' resumed Miss Potterson, 'so it's no use going into that.

I must take you as I find you.