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Updated: June 26, 2025
He felt that the path of duty led to the tram-lines. In a somewhat blundering fashion he proffered his services; the girl accepted them as a matter of course. Mrs. Jobling, with lips tightly compressed, watched them from the door. The girl, limping slightly, walked along with the utmost composure, but the bearing of her escort betokened a mind fully conscious of the scrutiny of the street.
He was delivered over to Jobling upon this representation; and though Jobling could not find out where his liver was wrong, wrong Mr Nadgett said it was; observing that it was his own liver, and he hoped he ought to know. Accordingly, he became Mr Jobling's patient; and detailing his symptoms in his slow and secret way, was in and out of that gentleman's room a dozen times a day.
'Men of the world, my dear sir, Jobling whispered to Jonas; 'thorough men of the world! To a professional person like myself it's quite refreshing to come into this kind of society. It's not only agreeable and nothing CAN be more agreeable but it's philosophically improving. It's character, my dear sir; character!
Guppy consults him in the choice of that day's banquet, turning an appealing look towards him as the waitress repeats the catalogue of viands and saying "What do YOU take, Chick?" Guppy and Mr. Jobling give the like order. Three pint pots of half-and-half are superadded.
Jobling bit her lip and, although she had never felt more fluent in her life, said nothing. Her husband lit his pipe, and after a rapid glance in her direction took up an old newspaper and began to read. He astonished Mrs. Jobling next day by the gift of a geranium in full bloom.
"Jobling," says Mr. Guppy, "myself and our mutual friend Smallweed " Mr. Smallweed modestly observes, "Gentlemen both!" and drinks. " Have had a little conversation on this matter more than once since you " "Say, got the sack!" cries Mr. Jobling bitterly. "Say it, Guppy. You mean it." "No-o-o! Left the Inn," Mr. Smallweed delicately suggests. "Since you left the Inn, Jobling," says Mr.
"It begins in the morning and it goes on till bedtime." "It's a pity " began Mrs. Jobling. "Hold your tongue," said her husband, sternly; "I don't want any of your back answers. It goes on all day long up to bedtime, and last night I laid awake for two hours listening to you nagging in your sleep." He paused again. "Nagging in your sleep," he repeated. There was no reply.
Boulter, who had the matter in hand, Jobling having died some years before, told him that in his opinion it was rather a nice point; he would like counsel's opinion on it.
"Done what?" inquired her husband, hunching his shoulders. "Putting your herringy knife in the butter. Well, you can eat it now; I won't. A lot of good me slaving from morning to night and buying good food when you go and spoil it like that." Mr. Jobling removed the pipe from his mouth. "Not so much of it," he commanded. "I like butter with a little flavor to it.
And a man is as old as he feels, you know." Mr. Jobling nodded acquiescence and observed that he always felt about twenty-two; a state of affairs which he ascribed to regular habits, and a great partiality for the company of young people. "I was just twenty-two when I married," he mused, "and my missis was just six months " "You leave my age alone," interrupted his wife, trembling with passion.
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