went on doing what he had to do from day to day, in
a cheerful, pains-taking, merry spirit; and saw through the sanguine
complexion of Uncle Sol and Captain Cuttle; and yet entertained a
thousand indistinct and visionary fancies of his own, to which theirs
were work-a-day probabilities. Such was his condition at the Pipchin
period, when he looked a little older than of yore, but not much; and
was the same light-footed, light-hearted, light-headed lad, as when
he charged into the parlour at the head of Uncle Sol and the imaginary
boarders, and lighted him to bring up the Madeira.

'Uncle Sol,' said Walter, 'I don't think you're well. You haven't eaten
any breakfast. I shall bring a doctor to you, if you go on like this.'

'He can't give me what I want, my boy,' said Uncle Sol. 'At least he is
in good practice if he can--and then he wouldn't.'

'What is it, Uncle? Customers?'

'Ay,' returned Solomon, with a sigh. 'Customers would do.'

'Confound it, Uncle!' said Walter, putting down his breakfast cup with
a clatter, and striking his hand on the table: 'when I see the people
going up and down the street in shoals all day, and passing and
re-passing the shop every minute, by scores, I feel half tempted to rush
out, collar somebody, bring him in, and make him buy fifty pounds' worth
of instruments for ready money. What are you looking in at the door
for?--' continued Walter, apostrophizing an old gentleman with a
powdered head (inaudibly to him of course), who was staring at a ship's
telescope with all his might and main. 'That's no use. I could do that.
Come in and buy it!'

The old gentleman, however, having satiated his curiosity, walked calmly
away.

'There he goes!' said Walter. 'That's the way with 'em all. But,
Uncle--I say, Uncle Sol'--for the old man was meditating and had not
responded to his first appeal. 'Don't be cast down. Don't be out of
spirits, Uncle. When orders do come, they'll come in such a crowd, you
won't be able to execute 'em.'

'I shall be past executing 'em, whenever they come, my boy,' returned
Solomon Gills. 'They'll never come to this shop again, till I am out of
t.'

'I say, Uncle! You musn't really, you know!' urged Walter. 'Don't!'

Old Sol endeavoured to assume a cheery look, and smiled across the
little table at him as pleasantly as he could.

'There's nothing more than usual the matter; is there, Uncle?' said
Walter, leaning his elbows on the tea tray, and bending over, to sp