babby. W'y wot more would you 'ave, Ned? You
didn't ought for to look blue."

"Pr'aps not," replied Ned, re-lighting his pipe, and puffing between
sentences, "but a man may be in a business quite to his mind and have a
good-looking wife, and a babby, and health to boot, without bein'
exactly safe from an attack of the blues now and then, d'ye see? `It
ain't all gold that glitters.' You've heard o' that proverb, no doubt?"

"Well, yes," replied Clazie.

"Ah. Then there's another sayin' which mayhap you've heard of too:
`every man's got a skeleton in the cupboard.'"

"I've heard o' that likewise," said Clazie, "but it ain't true;
leastways, _I_ have got no skeleton in none o' my cupboards, an', wot's
more, if I 'ad, I'd pitch him overboard."

"But what if he was too strong for you?" suggested Ned.

"Why, then--I don't know," said Clazie, shaking his head.

Before this knotty point could be settled in a satisfactory manner, the
comrades were interrupted by the entrance of a man. He was a thick-set,
ill-favoured fellow, with garments of a disreputable appearance, and had
a slouch that induced honest men to avoid his company. Nevertheless,
Ned Crashington gave him a hearty "good afternoon," and shook hands.

"My brother-in-law, Clazie," said Ned, turning and introducing him, "Mr
Sparks."

Clazie was about to say he "was 'appy to," etcetera, but thought better
of it, and merely nodded as he turned to the grate and shook the ashes
out of his pipe.

"You'll come and have a cup of tea, Phil? Maggie and I usually have it
about this time."

Phil Sparks said he had no objection to tea, and left the station with
Ned, leaving David Clazie shaking his head with a look of profound
wisdom.

"You're a bad lot, you are," growled David, after the man was gone, "a
werry bad lot, indeed!"

Having expressed his opinion to the clock, for there was no one else
present, David thrust both hands into his pockets, and went out to take
an observation of the weather.

Meanwhile Ned Crashington led his brother-in-law to his residence,
which, like the abodes of the other firemen, was close at hand.
Entering it he found his "skeleton" waiting for him in the shape of his
wife. She was anything but a skeleton in aspect, being a stout,
handsome woman, with a fine figure, an aquiline nose, and glittering
black eyes.

"Oh, you've come at last," she said in a sharp, querulous tone, almost
before her husband had entered the room.