tly put him in the road, she could
not understand.

The truth was he could not help himself; violence would have availed
nothing. But to youth it seems as if a few blows are all that is needed
to overcome difficulties.

Waller and Co., the tailor--he was his own Co.--walked over regularly
once a week; very civil and very persistent, and persistent in vain. How
he came to be a creditor was not easy to see, for Iden's coat was a
pattern of raggedness, his trousers bare at the knee, and his shabby
old hat rotten. But somehow or other there was a five-pound account two
years overdue.

Cobb, the butcher at Woolhorton, got off his trap as he went by, at
least twice a week, to chivey Iden about his money. Though he would not
let them have a mutton chop without payment, whenever there was five
shillings to spare for meat it was always taken into his shop, as it was
better to have good meat there, if you had to pay cash for meat, than
inferior in the village. One day, Amaryllis was waiting for some steak,
side by side with a poor woman, waiting for scraps, while Cobb served a
grand lady of the town. "Yes, m'm--oh, yes, m'm, certainly, m'm," bows,
and scrapes, and washing of hands, all the obsequiousness possible. When
the fine lady had gone, "Lar, Mr. Cobb," says the poor woman, "how
different you do speak to _they_ to what you do speak to _me_."

"Oh, yes," replied Cobb, not in the least abashed at having one manner
for the poor and another for the rich. "Yes, you see, these ladies they
require such a deal of _homage_."

There was a long bill at Beavan's the grocer's, but that was not much
pressed, only a large blue letter about once a month, as Beavan had a
very good profit out of them through the butter. Mrs. Iden made
excellent butter, which had a reputation, and Beavan took it all at
about half-price. If it had been sold to anyone else he would have
insisted on payment. So, by parting with the best butter in the county
at half-price, they got their tea and sugar without much dunning.

At one time Mrs. Iden became excited and strange in her manner, as if on
the point of hysterics, from which Amaryllis divined something serious
was approaching, though her mother would say nothing. So it turned
out--a bailiff appeared, and took up his quarters in the kitchen. He was
very civil and quiet; he sat by the great fire of logs, and offered to
help in any way he could. Iden gave him plenty of beer, for one thing.
Amaryllis coul