landed gentry of old England: bless 'em!"

"Master Smilash is only jokin'," said the man apologetically. "It's his
way."

"You should not bring a family into the world if you are so poor," said
Miss Wilson severely. "Can you not see that you impoverish yourself by
doing so--to put the matter on no higher grounds."

"Reverend Mr. Malthus's health!" remarked Smilash, repeating his
pantomime.

"Some say it's the children, and some say it's the drink, Miss," said
the man submissively. "But from what I see, family or no family, drunk
or sober, the poor gets poorer and the rich richer every day."

"Ain't it disgustin' to hear a man so ignorant of the improvement in the
condition of his class?" said Smilash, appealing to Miss Wilson.

"If you intend to take this man home with you," she said, turning
sharply on him, "you had better do it at once."

"I take it kind on your part that you ask me to do anythink, after your
up and telling Mr. Wickens that I am the last person in Lyvern you would
trust with a job."

"So you are--the very last. Why don't you drink your beer?"

"Not in scorn of your brewing, lady; but because, bein' a common man,
water is good enough for me."