y
where even our Universities can supply you with candidates for employment
at a cheaper rate than you can obtain the services of a first-class cook.
This young man had tried everything that was genteel: he had even aspired
to literature: sought employment on the Press, on the Stage, everywhere
in fact where gentility seemed to reign. Nor do I think he lacked
ability for any of these walks; it was not ability but opportunity that
failed him.

"Lookee ere, Joe," said Mr. Bumpkin; "harken to me. Don't thee 'ave nowt
to say to that there soger."

"All right, maister," said Joe, laughing; "thee thinks I be gwine for a
soger. Now lookee ere, maister, I beant a fool."

"No, thee beant, Joe. I knowed thee a good while, and thee beant no
fool."

Joe laughed. It was a big laugh was Joe's, for his mouth was somewhat
large, and a grin always seemed to twist it. On this occasion, so great
was his surprise that his master should think he would be fool enough to
enlist for a "soger," that his mouth assumed the most irregular shape I
ever saw, and bore a striking resemblance to a hole such as might be made
in the head of a drum by the heel of a boot.

"I be up to un, maister."

"Have no truck wi' un, I tell ee; don't speak to un. Thee be my head
witness, and doant dare goo away; no, no more un if--"

"No fear," said Joe. "'Taint likely I be gwine to listen to ee. I knows
what he wants; he's arter listin chaps."

"Look ee ere, Joe, if ur speaks to thee, jist say I beant sich a fool as
I looks; that'll ave un."

"Right," says Joe; "I beant sich a fool as I looks; that'll ave un
straight."

"Now, take heed; I'm gwine into the parlour wi' Landlord."

Accordingly, into the little quiet snuggery of Mr. Oldtimes, Mr. Bumpkin
betook himself. And many and many an agreeable evening was passed with
Mr. and Mrs. Oldtimes during the period when Mr. Bumpkin was waiting for
his trial. For Mr. and Mrs. Oldtimes being Somersetshire people knew
many inhabitants of the old days in the village of Yokelton, where Mr.
Bumpkin "were bred and born'd."

Meanwhile the "head witness" had returned to the cheerful scene in the
taproom, and sat leering out of the corners of his eyes upon the
Sergeant, as though he expected every moment that officer would make a
spring at him and have him upon the floor. But the Sergeant was not a
bullying, blustering sort of man at all; his demeanour was quiet in the
extreme. He scarcely looked at anyo