quick; and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famous
for _talking_ little and _doing_ much.

Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had received
information of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement. That same afternoon he
put on his broad-brimmed white hat, and, walking out to the village in
which she lived, called upon the vicar, who was a particular and intimate
friend of his. Having ascertained from the vicar that Mrs. Grumbit would
not accept of charity, he said abruptly,--

"And why not,--is she too proud?"

"By no means," replied the vicar. "She says that she would think shame to
take money from friends as long as she can work, because every penny that
she would thus get would be so much less to go to the helpless poor; of
whom, she says, with much truth, there are enough and to spare. And I
quite agree with her as regards her principle; but it does not apply
fully to her, for she cannot work so as to procure a sufficient
livelihood without injury to her health."

"Is she clever?" inquired Mr. Jollyboy.

"Why, no, not particularly. In fact, she does not often exert her
reasoning faculties, except in the common-place matters of ordinary and
every-day routine."

"Then she's cleverer than most people," said Mr. Jollyboy, shortly. "Is
she obstinate?"

"No, not in the least," returned the vicar with a puzzled smile.