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Updated: May 15, 2025
After this neither of them was surprised to meet there again the next night, and indeed for several nights. The carpenter and his wife, who did not want the money to go out of the family, and were also afraid of offending Mrs. Pullen, were at their wits' end what to do. Ultimately it was resolved that Tidger, in as delicate a manner as possible, was to hint to her that they were after her money.
"I don't know how," said his friend. "Tidger told me, but made me promise not to tell a soul. But I couldn't help telling you, Wiggett, 'cause I know what you're after." "Do me a favour," said the little man. "I will," said the other. "Keep it from Miller as long as possible. If you hear any one else talking of it, tell 'em to keep it from him. If he marries her I'll give you a couple of pints."
Wiggett, considerately. "Gin and beer," said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist. "Bed's the best thing for it," said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was beginning to show signs of getting out of hand. Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up, and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at Mr. Miller.
When they took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was radiant with happiness. "You don't seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger," said the wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening. "H'm?" said the startled carpenter. "What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?" demanded his wife. "Smoke his pipe," replied her husband, confidently.
"And old Wiggett?" persisted Mrs. Tidger. "Smoke his pipe," was the reply. "Why, what's the matter, Polly?" Mrs. Tidger sniffed derisively. "You men are all alike," she snapped. "What do you think Ann wears that pink bodice for?" "I never noticed she 'ad a pink bodice, Polly," said the carpenter. "No? That's what I say. You men never notice anything," said his wife.
"How old should you say Ann is now?" persisted the watchful Tidger. Mr. Wiggett shook his head. "I should say she's about fifteen years younger nor me," he said, slowly, "and I'm as lively as a cricket." "She's fifty-five," said the carpenter. "That makes you seventy, Wiggett," said Mr. Miller, pointedly. "I thought you was more than that. You look it." Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly.
"Looks like it," said Mrs. Pullen, feebly. "What is it?" screamed Mrs. Tidger, wrought beyond all endurance. Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. Tidger's gaze was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her the letter. Mrs.
When they took to dropping in of an evening to smoke a pipe the carpenter was radiant with happiness. "You don't seem to see beyond the end of your nose, Tidger," said the wife of his bosom after they had retired one evening. "H'm?" said the startled carpenter. "What do you think old Miller, the dealer, comes here for?" demanded his wife. "Smoke his pipe," replied her husband, confidently.
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.
Tidger bearing on one moleskin knee a small copy of himself in a red flannel frock and a slipper. The larger Tidger children took the solids of their breakfast up and down the stone-flagged court outside, coming in occasionally to gulp draughts of very weak tea from a gallipot or two which stood on the table, and to wheedle Mr.
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