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Judge, from hearing of it read, whether Brother Hawkyard was the faithful steward that the Lord had in his mind only t'other day, when, in this very place, he drew you the picter of the unfaithful one; for it was him that done it, not me. Don't doubt that! Brother Gimblet then groaned and bellowed his way through my composition, and subsequently through an hour.
Verity Hawkyard, of West Bromwich. Then the ring split in one place; and a yellow-faced, peak-nosed gentleman, clad all in iron-gray to his gaiters, pressed forward with a policeman and another official of some sort. He came forward close to the vessel of smoking vinegar; from which he sprinkled himself carefully, and me copiously.
Brother Hawkyard then said, in a livelier strain, 'You must know, George, that Brother Gimblet and I are going to make our two businesses one. We are going into partnership. We are settling it now. 'D.V.! said Brother Gimblet, with his right fist firmly clinched on his right leg. 'There is no objection, pursued Brother Hawkyard, 'to my reading this aloud, George?
'He had a grandfather at Birmingham, this young boy, who is just dead too, said Mr. Hawkyard. I turned my eyes upon the speaker, and said in a ravening manner, 'Where's his houses? 'Hah! Horrible worldliness on the edge of the grave, said Mr. Hawkyard, casting more of the vinegar over me, as if to get my devil out of me.
Even though I had not seen him when he rose from his knees, steaming with perspiration, glance at Brother Hawkyard, and even though I had not heard Brother Hawkyard's tone of congratulating him on the vigour with which he had roared, I should have detected a malicious application in this prayer.
I thought this all the better for my purpose, and made bold to tap again. They were talking in a low tone, and money was passing; for I heard it being counted out. 'Who is it? asked Brother Hawkyard, sharply. 'George Silverman, I answered, holding the door open. 'May I come in? Both brothers seemed so astounded to see me that I felt shyer than usual.
The Lord has had a good servant in me, and he knows it. What I then supposed him to mean by this, I cannot imagine. As little do I know when I began to comprehend that he was a prominent member of some obscure denomination or congregation, every member of which held forth to the rest when so inclined, and among whom he was called Brother Hawkyard.
I knew at the time they had a horror of me, but I couldn't help it. I was still eating and drinking, and a murmur of discussion had begun to arise respecting what was to be done with me next, when I heard a cracked voice somewhere in the ring say, 'My name is Hawkyard, Mr.
I could distinguish no word save 'Farm-house. There was another sound several times repeated, which was wholly meaningless in my ears then, but which I knew afterwards to be 'Hoghton Towers. 'Yes, said Mr. Hawkyard. 'I think that sounds promising; I think that sounds hopeful. And he can be put by himself in a ward, for a night or two, you say?
But they looked quite cadaverous in the early gaslight, and perhaps that accidental circumstance exaggerated the expression of their faces. 'What is the matter? asked Brother Hawkyard. 'Ay! what is the matter? asked Brother Gimblet. 'Nothing at all, I said, diffidently producing my document: 'I am only the bearer of a letter from myself. 'From yourself, George? cried Brother Hawkyard.
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