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Updated: June 12, 2025
An' five pound's what I never 'ad in fifty year. There's a good deal more than five pound 'ere now, Mr. Waymark; I've reckoned it up in my 'cad. What d' you think I'm a-goin' for to do with it?" He asked this question after a pause, with his head bent forward, his countenance screwed into the most hideous expression of cunning and gratified desire.
Pound's sermons, and the intimation of my father that wickedness was within me, like an incurable disease, was not mine the logical conclusion? What, then, was the use of praying?... My supplications ceased abruptly.
"Penny points, a sixpenny ante and a shilling limit," he said. "Then no harm will be done to any one. The black counters a shilling, the red sixpence, and the white ones a penny. You have each a pound's worth," he said as he dealt them out. Sylvia rose from her chair. "I think I will go to bed." Wallie Hine turned round in his chair, holding his counters in his hand.
For he would have beheld serenely established in that former abode of Calvinism one of the most reprehensible of exotic abominations, a 'mariage de convenance; nor could he have failed to observe, moreover, the complacency with which the descendants of his friends, the pew holders in Dr. Pound's church, regarded the matter: and not only these, but the city at large.
If so, how may better things be brought to pass? To share in the civilization that has come from nineteen hundred years of the work of the Church, and to be unwilling to lift a pound's weight of the present burden, in order to pass on to others our precious heritage, is certainly a selfish and unworthy course. It is better to ask, What is my work in the upbuilding of the Church?
He did not detect them in a single specimen of refined sugar. In an inferior sample of raw sugar, examined in Dublin by Mr. Cameron, he reports finding five hundred mites in ten grains of sugar, so that in a pound's weight occurred one hundred thousand of these little creatures, which seem to have devoted themselves with a martyr-like zeal to the adulteration of sugar.
Who'd guess as nigh on a thousand pound's missing out of this house since last night!" The heavy voice rolled over them brutally. Louis attempted to withstand Mr. Batchgrew's glare, but failed.
My friend had evidently been a prime favourite with him, and it was some minutes before I could squeeze in my crucial question. It seemed almost impossible to expect him to remember the exact rooms occupied by Mr Forbes, considering there were two or three "sets" of rooms in the house, in addition to several bedrooms which were let separately. But even here Mr Pound's memory proved invaluable.
"Got anybody in mind, Bob? Thinkin' of anybody specific for the place?" Bob shook his head. "Um!... Nahum Pound's daughter's boardin' with Grandma Penny, that's now Mis' Spackles. All-fired perty girl, Bob. Don't call to mind no pertier. Sairy's her name.... G'-by, Bob. G'-by." He walked to the door, but paused. "About that six dollars, Bob I was figgerin' on payin' that out of my own pocket."
Every morning he received his tribute, eyeing it like a Nabob's prime minister, as he considers whether he will sign a pardon. Gobseck would take anything, from the present of game sent him by some poor devil or the pound's weight of wax candles from devout folk, to the rich man's plate and the speculator's gold snuff-box. Nobody knew what became of the presents sent to the old money-lender.
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