d-six," said the man.

"Yes, yes, thanks," I replied. "If it weren't that it was beginning to
be a little tight for me, of course I wouldn't part with it."

I got the money and the ticket, and went back. Considering all things,
pawning that waistcoat was a capital notion. I would have money enough
over for a plentiful breakfast, and before evening my thesis on the
"Crimes of Futurity" would be ready. I began to find existence more
alluring; and I hurried back to the man to get rid of him.

"There it is," said I. "I am glad you applied to me first."

The man took the money and scrutinized me closely. At what was he
standing there staring? I had a feeling that he particularly examined
the knees of my trousers, and his shameless effrontery bored me. Did
the scoundrel imagine that I really was as poor as I looked? Had I not
as good as begun to write an article for half-a-sovereign? Besides, I
had no fear whatever for the future. I had many irons in the fire. What
on earth business was it of an utter stranger if I chose to stand him a
drink on such a lovely day? The man's look annoyed me, and I made up my
mind to give him a good dressing-down before I left him. I threw back
my shoulders, and said:

"My good fellow, you have adopted a most unpleasant habit of staring at
a man's knees when he gives you a shilling."

He leant his head back against the wall and opened his mouth widely;
something was working in that empty pate of his, and he evidently came
to the conclusion that I meant to best him in some way, for he handed
me back the money. I stamped on the pavement, and, swearing at him,
told him to keep it. Did he imagine I was going to all that trouble for
nothing? If all came to all, perhaps I owed him this shilling; I had
just recollected an old debt; he was standing before an honest man,
honourable to his finger-tips--in short, the money was his. Oh, no
thanks were needed; it had been a pleasure to me. Good-bye!

I went on. At last I was freed from this work-ridden plague, and I
could go my way in peace. I turned down Pyle Street again, and stopped
before a grocer's shop. The whole window was filled with eatables, and
I decided to go in and get something to take with me.

"A piece of cheese and a French roll," I said, and threw my sixpence on
to the counter.

"Bread and cheese for the whole of it?" asked the woman ironically,
without looking up at me.

"For the whole sixpence? Yes," I answered, unruffled.

I