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Does he tell fortunes by tea-leaves or by the colour of your eyes?" "Laugh away, John Boxer," said Mrs. Gimpson, icily; "but I shouldn't have been alive now if it hadn't ha' been for Mr. Silver's warnings." "Mother stayed in bed for the first ten days in July," explained Mrs. Boxer, "to avoid being bit by a mad dog." "Tchee tchee tchee," said the hapless Mr.
A slow, dragging footstep was heard approaching in reply to the summons, and the astrologer, recognising his visitor as one of his most faithful and credulous clients, invited her to step inside. Mrs. Gimpson complied, and, taking a chair, gazed at the venerable white beard and small, red-rimmed eyes of her host in some perplexity as to how to begin.
"He's come back!" cried Mrs. Boxer, hysterically. "Thank goodness," said Mrs. Gimpson, after a moment's deliberation. "He's alive!" cried Mrs. Boxer. "He's alive !" She half-dragged and half-led him into the small parlour, and thrusting him into the easy-chair lately vacated by Mrs.
"My daughter's coming round to see you presently," she said, at last. The astrologer nodded. "She she wants to ask you about 'er husband," faltered' Mrs. Gimpson; "she's going to bring a friend with her a man who doesn't believe in your knowledge. He he knows all about my daughter's husband, and he wants to see what you say you know about him."
He was short and bearded, with oddly shaped shoulders, and a left leg which was not a match; but the next moment Mrs. Boxer was in his arms sobbing and laughing together. Mrs. Gimpson, whose nerves were still quivering owing to the suddenness with which she had been awakened, came into the shop; Mr. Boxer freed an arm, and placing it round her waist kissed her with some affection on the chin.
"Ah! you ought to have seen that island. Beautiful yellow sands and palm-trees; cocoa-nuts to be 'ad for the picking, and nothing to do all day but lay about in the sun and swim in the sea." "Any public-'ouses there?" inquired Mrs. Gimpson. "Cert'nly not," said her son-in-law. "This was an island one o' the little islands in the South Pacific Ocean."
Boxer, waggishly, "that was wise of 'im. Most of us could tell fortunes that way." "That's wrong," said Mrs. Gimpson to her daughter, sharply. "Right's right any day, and truth's truth. He said that he knew all about John and what he'd been doing, but he wouldn't tell us for fear of 'urting our feelings and making mischief." "Here, look 'ere," said Mr.
There" he waved a lean, shrivelled hand backward and for-ward as though dispelling a fog, and peered into distance "there is something forming over you. You or somebody are hiding something from me." Mrs. Gimpson, aghast at such omniscience, sank backward in her chair. "Speak," said the old man, gently; "there is no reason why you should be sacrificed for others." Mrs.
A glance through the glass of the door leading into the small parlour revealed Mrs. Gimpson, with a red shawl round her shoulders, asleep in her easy-chair. Mrs. Boxer turned at the clang of the shop bell, and then, with a wild cry, stood gazing at the figure of a man standing in the door-way.
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