junior, mocking the old man's accent and grammar. The senior looks up,
'Call at two o'clock, the deed is not ready,' and down goes his head
again. 'A main bit o' bother about this yer margidge' (mortgage), the
labourer remarks, as he turns to go out, not without a complacent smile on
his features for the law's delays seem to him grand, and he feels
important. He has a little property--a cottage and garden--upon which he
is raising a small sum for some purpose, and this 'margidge' is one of the
great events of his life. He talked about it for two or three years before
he ventured to begin it; he has been weeks making up his mind exactly what
to do after his first interview with the solicitor--he would have been
months had not the solicitor at last made it plain that he could waste no
more time--and when it is finally completed he will talk about it again to
the end of his days. He will be in and out asking for 'he' all day long at
intervals, and when the interview takes place it will be only for the
purpose of having everything already settled explained over to him for the
fiftieth time. His heavy shoes drag slowly down the passage--he will go to
the street corner and talk with the carters who come in, and the old
women, with their baskets, a-shopping, about 'this yer law job.'

There is a swifter step on the lead-covered staircase, and a clerk
appears, coming from the upper rooms. He has a telegram and a letter in
one hand, and a bundle of papers in the other. He shows the telegram and
the letter to his fellow clerks--even the grave senior just glances at the
contents silently, elevates his eyebrows, and returns to his work. After a
few minutes' talk and a jest or two the clerk rushes upstairs again.

Another caller comes. It is a stout, florid man, a young farmer or
farmer's son, riding-whip in hand, who produces a red-bound rate-book from
a pocket in his coat made on purpose to hold the unwieldy volume. He is a
rate-collector for his parish, and has called about some technicalities.
The grave senior clerk examines the book, but cannot solve the
difficulties pointed out by the collector, and, placing it on one side,
recommends the inquirer to call in two hours' time. Steps again on the
stairs, and another clerk comes down leisurely, and after him still
another. Their only business is to exchange a few words with their
friends, for pastime, and they go up again.

As the morning draws on, the callers become more numerous