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Give him a crust, he said, and somebody to halve it with a home-made crust baked by a wife. It was a pretty picture, but somewhat spoiled by Mrs. Tidger suggesting that, though he had spoken of halving the crust, he had said nothing about the beer. "Half of my beer wouldn't be much," said the dealer, slowly. "Not the half you would give your wife wouldn't," retorted Mrs. Tidger.
He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught- player he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he was. "Draughts come natural to some people," said Mrs. Pullen, modestly. "It's as easy as kissing your fingers." Mr.
"It's a poor place, but nice, and we'll play draughts every evening. When shall it be?" "When you like," said Mrs. Pullen, in a faint voice. "I'll put the banns up to-morrow," said the dealer. Mrs. Tidger's lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Mrs. Tidger, who felt that she had misjudged him, was touched. "It does you credit, Mr. Miller," she said, warmly.
Tidger, in justification of the huge crust he was carving into mouthfuls with his pocket-knife. "Seems to me I can't eat enough sometimes. Hullo, who's the letter for?" He took it from the postman, who stood at the door amid a bevy of Tidgers who had followed him up the court, and slowly read the address. "'Mrs. Ann Pullen," he said, handing it over to his sister-in-law; "nice writing, too."
"I'm fifty-nine," he growled. "Nothing 'll make me believe as Mrs. Pullen's fifty-five, nor anywhere near it." "Ho!" said the carpenter, on his mettle "ho! Why, my wife here was the sixth child, and she He caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye, and expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again.
Tidger out of any small piece of bloater which he felt generous enough to bestow. "Peg away, Ann," said Mr. Tidger, heartily. His wife's elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of her slice to one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair. "No appetite, Tidger," she said, slowly. "You should go in for carpentering," said Mr.
"Take your pick," said Mr. Miller. "You know Mrs. Pullen's got two thousand pounds " "Wiggett's going to have it," said the other; "he as good as told me so." "He's after her money," said the other, sadly. "Look 'ere, Smith, I want you to tell him she's lost it all. Say that Tidger told you, but you wasn't to tell anybody else. Wiggett 'll believe you." Mr.
"If you don't send them two old fools off, I will." "Don't you like 'em to see Ann wearing pink?" inquired the mystified Tidger. Mrs. Tidger bit her lip and shook her head at him scornfully. "In plain English, Tidger, as plain as I can speak it," she said, severely, "they're after Ann and 'er bit o' money." Mr.
She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read the letter, a proceeding which she punctuated with such "Ohs" and "Ahs" and gaspings and "God bless my souls" as nearly drove the carpenter and his wife, who were leaning forward impatiently, to the verge of desperation. "Who's it from?" asked Mr. Tidger for the third time. "I don't know," said Mrs. Pullen.
"I'm fifty-nine," he growled. "Nothing 'll make me believe as Mrs. Pullen's fifty-five, nor anywhere near it." "Ho!" said the carpenter, on his mettle "ho! Why, my wife here was the sixth child, and she He caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye, and expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again.
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