of her own
garments."

"Where are your own clothes?"

"There," said East, pointing to a clothes' horse, which Tom had
not hitherto remarked, which stood well into the chimney corner;
"and they are dry, too," he went on, feeling them; "at least the
flannel shirt and trousers are, so I'll get into them again."

"I say, ma'am," he called out, addressing the screen, "I'm going
to change my things. So you had better not look in just now. In
fact, we can call now, if we want anything."

At this strong hint the widow Higgs was heard bustling away
behind the screen, and after her departure East got into some of
his own clothes again, offering the cast-off garments of the
Higgs family to Tom, who, however, declined, contenting himself
with taking off his coat and waistcoat, and hanging them upon the
horse. He had been blown comparatively dry in the last half-hour
of his walk.

While East was making his toilet, Tom turned to the table, and
made an assault on the bread and bacon, and then poured himself
out a glass of beer and began to drink it, but was pulled up half
way, and put it down with a face all drawn up into puckers by its
sharpness.

"I thought you wouldn't appreciate the widow's tap," said East,
watching him with a grin. "Regular whistle-belly vengeance, and
no mistake! Here, I don't mind giving you some of my compound,
though you don't deserve it."

So Tom drew his chair to the fire, and smacked his lips over the
long-necked glass, which East handed to him.

"Ah! that's not bad tipple after such a ducking as we've had.
Dog's-nose, isn't it?"

East nodded.

"Well, old fellow, I will say you are the best hand I know at
making the most of your opportunities. I don't know of anyone
else who could have made such a good brew out of that stuff and a
drop of gin."

East was not to be mollified by any such compliment. "Have you
got many more such jobs as to-day's on hand? I should think they
must interfere with reading."

"No. But I call to-day's a real good job."

"Do you? I don't agree. Of course it's a matter of taste. I have
the honor of holding Her Majesty's commission; so I may be
prejudiced, perhaps."

"What difference does it make whose commission you hold? You
wouldn't hold any commission, I know, which would bind you to be
a tyrant and oppress the weak and the poor."

"Humbug about your oppressing! Who is the tyrant, I should like
to know, the farmer, or the mob that destroys his property? I