t
is now a function delightful to witness as he stumps backwards and
forwards between the kitchen looking-glass and the scullery-sink. What
a washing and spluttering! what a boot-blacking and hair brushing! what
retouches and last glances into the glass! The cap comes off and is
replaced at a jauntier angle, a ribbon is tied again, the lanyard is
put just right, and George goes forth to a war that began before
battleships were thought of. One makes fun of his titivations, and
admires nevertheless. Pride o' life, I have heard it called. Hitching
one's wagon to a star is doubtless good; so is driving one's wagon
along mankind's track. Thank God we have still a deal of the monkey in
us.

I should like to see how Master George would carry on the land campaign
if he had money to spare. That, however, he has not. The presents he
brought home for the whole family, as is customary, must have cost him
a good deal. He has had, too, a spell in the Naval barracks--which
means spending money on shore amusements instead of putting it by. And
as he has bought some civilian clothes on the instalment system, and
will have that to pay off, he cannot borrow much of his father or
mother.

Being 'on his own' now, he does not, of course expect a supply of money
from his father, nor on the other hand does Tony try to force his
authority upon George. Whilst he was here, George met a few of his old
chums up in the Town, and about midnight he came home rather drunk. We
were all abed; he had to knock several times; and in the end Tony went
down to let him in. 'Twas a good opportunity for a quarrel that would
have wakened the whole Square. But Tony said nothing then. He saw
George safely to bed, and merely remarked next day in George's hearing,
that "'Tisn't gude to drink tu much if you can help o'it, specially
when yu'm young; besides, it costis tu much." George was very ashamed.

[Sidenote: _MRS WIDGER'S DIPLOMACY_]

Mrs Widger it was who had the row over George's spree, but not with
George, and owing to her clever diplomacy it was hardly a row at all.

Mabel rushed into the house at breakfast-time.

"Mother, is George come home?"

"Course he is. What next?"

"Well, Lottie Rousdon says as he come'd home last night an' yu an' Dad
wuden' let 'en in. Drunk's a handcart, falling about, her says he was."

"Tis a lie!" began Mrs Widger loudly. Then she appeared to think of
something; her eyes widened, and she spoke quietly.

"Who told yu