Jenner, taught by Philosophy through its organ the newspapers that
"knowledge is riches," was above diluting with a few shillings a week the
wealth a boy acquired behind his counter; so his apprentices got no
salary. Then why not shut up the old rogue's shutters, and excite a
little sympathy for him, to be followed by a powerful reaction on his
return from walking; and go and offer his own services on the
cricket-ground to field for the gentlemen by the hour, or bowl at a
shilling on their balls?

"Bowling is the lay for me," said he; "you get money for that, and you
only bruise the gents a bit and break their thumbs: you can't put their
vital sparks out as you can at this work."

By a striking coincidence the most influential member of the cricket club
passed while Dick was in this quandary.


"Oh, Mr. Halfred, you was always very good to me on the ground--you
couldn't have me hired by the club, could ye? For I am sick of this
trade; I wants to bowl."

"You little duffer!" said Alfred, "cricket is a recreation, not a
business. Besides, it only lasts five months. Unless you adjourn to the
anitipodes. Stick to the shop like a man, and make your fortune."

"Oh, Mr. Halfred," said Dick sorrowfully, "how can I find fortune here?
Jenner don't pay. And the crowner declares he will not have it; and the
Barton _Chronicle_ says us young gents ought all to be given a holiday to
go and see one of us hanged by lot. But this is what have broke this
camel's back at last; here's a dalled thing to come smiling and smirking