e. Now, would n't you prosecute 'em, sir?"

"It depends on what you can prove."

"I know they had 'em. A man must stand up for his rights; that's only
proper. I can't afford to lose beautiful things like them. I think I
ought to prosecute, now, don't you, sir?"

Shelton restrained a smile.

"There!" said the old man, smoothing out a piece of paper shakily,
"that's Sir George!" and his withered finger-tips trembled on the middle
of the page: 'Joshua Creed, in my service five years as butler, during
which time I have found him all that a servant should be.' And this
'ere'--he fumbled with another--"this 'ere 's Lady Glengow: 'Joshua
Creed--' I thought I'd like you to read 'em since you've been so kind."

"Will you have a pipe?"

"Thank ye, sir," replied the aged butler, filling his clay from
Shelton's pouch; then, taking a front tooth between his finger and his
thumb, he began to feel it tenderly, working it to and fro with a sort of
melancholy pride.

"My teeth's a-comin' out," he said; "but I enjoys pretty good health for
a man of my age."

"How old is that?"

"Seventy-two! Barrin' my cough, and my rupture, and this 'ere
affliction"--he passed his hand over his face--"I 've nothing to complain
of; everybody has somethink, it seems. I'm a wonder for my age, I
think."

Shelton, for all his pity, would have given much to laugh.

"Seventy-two!" he said; "yes, a great age. You remember the country when
it was very different to what it is now?"

"Ah!" said the old butler, "there was gentry then; I remember them
drivin' down to Newmarket (my native place, sir) with their own horses.
There was n't so much o' these here middle classes then. There was more,
too, what you might call the milk o' human kindness in people then--none
o' them amalgamated stores, every man keepin' his own little shop; not so
eager to cut his neighbour's throat, as you might say. And then look at
the price of bread! O dear! why, it is n't a quarter what it was!"

"And are people happier now than they were then?" asked Shelton.

The old butler sucked his pipe.

"No," he answered, shaking his old head; "they've lost the contented
spirit. I see people runnin' here and runnin' there, readin' books,
findin' things out; they ain't not so self-contented as they were."

"Is that possible?" thought Shelton.

"No," repeated the old man, again sucking at his pipe, and this time
blowing out a lot of smoke; "I don't see as much happ