rry!" exclaimed Dick, wonderingly.

"Me it is, S'Rich--Dick Smithson," cried the man, cheerily.

"For goodness' sake, mind what you are saying."

"I will, sir--I will, Dick--but it is so hard to break off your old
habits."

"And give me that brush. You must not go on like this."

"Why not?" cried Jerry; "I often do jobs for my mates. There's no rules
again' that. Why, I could clean up, polish, and pipe-clay twice as fast
as some of 'em."

"But what brings you here, Jerry?"

"Ah! that's it, S'Dick Smithson!" cried the man, with a smile of
triumph. "It's all right; I'm taken in exchange."

"What!"

"They've swopped me, somehow. I don't know; but I don't belong to the
Three-tenth no longer. I'm a Two-fifth, and, what's more, I'm
Lieutenant Lacey's servant. I've been with him two days."

"And are you satisfied? Can you get on?"

"Satisfied ain't the word for it. I was never meant to go shouldering
arms and making two legs of a long centipede, and crawling about. It's
like getting back into real happiness. Waited table last night for the
fust time. Didn't you see me?"

"I? No."

"I see you tootling away there on your floot, 'eavenly, but I couldn't
catch your eye. 'Sides, I was strange there, and had to mind what I was
about, 'tending to my master. It was a real treat!"

"And so you think you'll get on with him?"

"Get on with him! Why, I can do anything I like with him already! My
word! they call red herrings sogers, and sogers red herrings, and he is
a soft-roed un, and no mistake."

"Lieutenant Lacey is a thorough gentleman, Jerry," cried Dick, warmly.

"Every inch of him, Dick Smithson--mind, I'm a calling you that, Dick,
but it's meant respectful--a thorough gent, every inch of him, and
there's a good lot on him, too; but he is a bit slack-baked, you know.
Why, if I liked, I could a'most gammon him into anything."

"I trust you will prove as good a servant to him as you were to--"

"Me," Dick was going to say, but he checked himself.

"You trust me for that, Dick Smithson, I will. But, really, it's
shameful the way he's been neglected. He come and ketched me last night
sitting on the floor cross-legged, fine-drawing a hole in his
dress-vest, and he burst out a-laughing, good-humoured like.

"`Why, Brigley,' he says, `I didn't know you were a tailor.'

"`More I am, sir,' I says; `but a man as pretends to valet a gent, and
can't draw up a tear, or put on a button, ain't worth