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Mr George sits； with his arms folded； consuming the family and
the parlour； while Grandfather Smallweed is assisted by Judy to
two black leathern cases out of a locked bureau； in one of which he
secures the document he has just received； and from the other
takes another similar document which he hands to Mr George；
who twists it up for a pipe…light。 As the old man inspects； through
his glasses； every up…stroke and downstroke of both documents；
before he releases them from their leathern prison； and as he
counts the money three times over； and requires Judy to say every
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word she utters at least twice； and is as tremulously slow of speech
and action as it is possible to be； this business is a long time in
progress。 When it is quite concluded； and not before； he
disengages his ravenous eyes and fingers from it； and answers Mr
George’s last remark by saying； “Afraid to order the pipe？ We are
not so mercenary as that； sir。 Judy； see directly to the pipe and the
glass of cold brandy and water for Mr George。”
The sportive twins； who have been looking straight before them
all this time； except when they have been engrossed by the
leathern cases； retire together； generally disdainful of the visitor；
but leaving him to the old man； as two young cubs might leave a
traveller to the parental bear。
“And there you sit； I suppose； all the day long； eh！” says Mr
George； with folded arms。
“Just so； just so；” the old man nods。
“And don’t you occupy yourself at all？”
“I watch the fire—and the boiling and the roasting—”
“When there is any；” says Mr George； with great expression。
“Just so。 When there is any。”
“Don’t you read； and get read to？”
The old man shakes his head with sharp sly triumph。 “No； no。
We have never been readers in our family。 It don’t pay。 Stuff。
Idleness。 Folly。 No； no！”
“There’s not much to choose between your two states；” says the
visitor； in a key too low for the old man’s dull hearing； as he looks
from him to the old woman and back again。 “I say！” in a louder
voice。
“I hear you。”
“You’ll sell me up at last I suppose； when I am a day in arrear。”
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“My dear friend！” cries Grandfather Smallweed； stretching out
both hands to embrace him。 “Never！ Never； my dear friend！ But
my friend in the city that I got to lend you the money—he might！”
“O！ you can’t answer for him？” says Mr George； finishing the
inquiry； in his lower key； with the words “you lying old rascal！”
“My dear friend； he is not to be depended on。 I wouldn’t trust
him。 He will have his bond； my dear friend。”
“Devil doubt him；” says Mr George。 Charley appearing with a
tray； on which are the pipe； a small paper of tobacco； and the
brandy and water； he asks her； “How do you come here！ you
haven’t got the family face。”
“I goes out to work； sir；” returns Charley。
The trooper （if trooper he be or have been） takes her bonnet off；
with a light touch for so strong a hand； and pats her on the head。
“You give the house almost a wholesome look。 It wants a bit of
youth as much as it wants fresh air。” Then he dismisses her； lights
his pipe； and drinks to Mr Smallweed’s friend in the city—the one
solitary flight of that esteemed old gentleman’s imagination。
“So you think he might be hard upon me； eh？”
“I think he might—I am afraid he would。 I have known him to
do it；” says Grandfather Smallweed； incautiously； “twenty times。”
Incautiously； because his stricken better…half； who has been
dozing over the fire for some time； is instantly aroused and jabbers
“Twenty thousand pounds； twenty twenty…pound notes in a
moneybox； twenty guineas； twenty million twenty per cent；
twenty—” and is then cut short by the flying cushion； which the
visitor； to whom the singular experiment appears to be a novelty；
snatches from her face as it crushes her in the usual manner。
“You’re a brimstone idiot。 You’re a scorpion—a brimstone
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scorpion！ You’re a sweltering toad。 You’re a chattering clattering
broomstick witch； that ought to be burnt！” gasps the old man；
prostrate in his chair。 “My dear friend； will you shake me up a
little？”
Mr George； who has been looking first at one of them and then
at the other； as if he were demented； takes his venerable
acquaintance by the throat on receiving this request； and dragging
him upright in his chair as easily as if he were a doll； appears in
two minds whether or no to shake all future power of cushioning
out of him； and shake him into his grave。 Resisting the temptation；
but agitating him violently enough to make his head roll like a
harlequin’s； he puts him smartly down in his chair again； and
adjusts his skull…cap with such a rub； that the old man winks both
eyes for a minute afterwards。
“O Lord！” gasps Mr Smallweed。 That’ll do。 Thank you； my dear
friend； that’ll do。 O dear me； I’m out of breath。 O Lord！” And Mr
Smallweed says it； not without evident apprehensions of his dear
friend； who still stands over him looming larger than ever。
The alarming presence； however； gradually subsides into its
chair； and falls to smoking in long puffs； consoling itself with the
philosophical reflection； “The name of your friend in the city
begins a D； comrade； and you’re about right respecting the bond。”
“Did you speak； Mr George？” inquires the old man。
The trooper shakes his head； and leaning forward with his right
elbow on his right knee and his pipe supported in that hand； while
his other hand； resting on his left leg； squares his left elbow in a
martial manner； continues to smoke。 Meanwhile he looks at Mr
Smallweed with grave attention； and now and then fans the cloud
of smoke away； in order that he may see him the more clearly。
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“I take it；” he says； making just as much and as little change in
his position as will enable him to reach the glass to his lips； with a
round； full action； “that I am the only man alive （or dead either）；
that gets the value of a pipe out of you？”
“Well！” returns the old man； “it’s true that I don’t see company；
Mr George； and that I don’t treat。 I can’t afford to it。 But as you； in
your pleasant way； made your pipe a condition—”
“Why； it’s not for the value of it； that’s no great thing。 It was a
fancy to get it out of you。 To have something in for my money。”
“Ha！