s, to retain.

There were also other points at which "Cobbler" Horn came into collision
with the customs of society. He persisted in habitually going out with his
hands ungloved. He possessed a hardy frame, and, even in winter, he had
rarely worn either gloves or overcoat; and now, as ever, almost his only
preparation for going out was to take his hat down from its peg, and put
it on his head. Miss Jemima pathetically entreated that he would at least
wear gloves. But he was obdurate. His hands, he said, were always warm
enough when he was out of doors; and he would try to keep them clean.

Another of the whims of "Cobbler" Horn was his fondness for doing what his
sister called "common" work. One morning, for example, on coming down to
breakfast, the good lady, looking through the window, saw her brother, in
his shirt sleeves, engaged in trimming the grass of the lawn. With a
little scream, she ran out at the front-door, and caught him by the arm.

"Thomas! Thomas!" she cried, "if you don't care about yourself, have a
little thought for me!"

"What is it, Jemima?" he asked straightening himself. "Is breakfast ready?
I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. I'll come at once."

"No, no," exclaimed Miss Jemima; "it's not that! But for a man in your
position to be working like a common gardener--it's shameful! Pray come in
at once, before you are seen by any one going by! Without your coat too,
on a sharp winter's morning like this!"

"My dear Jemima," said "Cobbler" Horn, as he turned with her towards the
house, "if I _were_ a common gardener, there would be no disgrace,
any more than in my present position. There's no shame in a bit of honest
work, anyhow, Jemima; and it's a great treat to me."

Miss Jemima's chief concern was to get her unmanageable brother into the
house as quickly as possible, and she paid little heed to what he said.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

BOUNDER GIVES WARNING.

There was another personage to whom the unconventional ways of "the Golden
Shoemaker" gave great offence; and that was Mr. Bounder, the coachman. As
a coachman, Bounder was faultless. His native genius had been developed
and matured by a long course of first-class experience. In matters of
etiquette, within his province, Bounder was precise. Right behaviour
between master and coachman was, in his opinion, "the whole duty of man."
He held in equal contempt a presuming coachman an