ty. So now I'm reading for the Bar; and if only my coach can
put me up to tips enough to dodge the examiners, I expect to be called
some time next summer."
"And when you have failed for everything?" I inquired, just to test his
sense of humour.
He swallowed it like a roach. "Oh, when I've failed for everything,
I shall stick up to the Guv'nor. Hang it all, a GENTLEMAN can't be
expected to earn his own livelihood. England's going to the dogs, that's
where it is; no snug little sinecures left for chaps like you and
me; all this beastly competition. And no respect for the feelings of
gentlemen, either! Why, would you believe it, Cumberground--we used
to call you Cumberground at Charterhouse, I remember, or was it Fig
Tree?--I happened to get a bit lively in the Haymarket last week, after
a rattling good supper, and the chap at the police court--old cove with
a squint--positively proposed to send me to prison, WITHOUT THE OPTION
OF A FINE!--I'll trouble you for that--send ME to prison just--for
knocking down a common brute of a bobby. There's no mistake about it;
England's NOT a country now for a gentleman to live in."
"Then why not mark your sense of the fact by leaving it?" I inquired,
with a smile.
He shook his head. "What? Emigrate? No, thank you! I'm not taking any.
None of your colonies for ME, IF you please. I shall stick to the old
ship. I'm too much attached to the Empire."
"And yet imperialists," I said, "generally gush over the colonies--the
Empire on which the sun never sets."
"The Empire in Leicester Squire!" he responded, gazing at me with
unspoken contempt. "Have a whisky-and-soda, old chap? What, no? 'Never
drink between meals?' Well, you DO surprise me! I suppose that comes of
being a sawbones, don't it?"
"Possibly," I answered. "We respect our livers." Then I went on to the
ostensible reason of my visit--the Charterhouse testimonial. He slapped
his thighs metaphorically, by way of suggesting the depleted condition
of his pockets. "Stony broke, Cumberledge," he murmured; "stony broke!
Honour bright! Unless Bluebird pulls off the Prince of Wales's Stakes, I
really don't know how I'm to pay the Benchers."
"It's quite unimportant," I answered. "I was asked to ask you, and I
HAVE asked you."
"So I twig, my dear fellow. Sorry to have to say NO. But I'll tell you
what I can do for you; I can put you upon a straight thing--"
I glanced at the mantelpiece. "I see you have a photograph of Miss
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