"B'gad, yes!" nodded uncle George. "Fine thing, hardship--if not too
hard. So we thought it well to see that you did not go short of
the--ah--needful, d'ye see."

"Needful, sir?" I enquired.

"Rhino, lad--chink, my boy!"

"Ha, to be sure," sighed uncle Jervas, noting my bewilderment. "These
coarse metaphors are but empty sounds in your chaste ears,
nephew--brother George is trying to say money. Do you happen to have a
sufficiency of such dross about you, pray?" A search of my various
pockets resulted in the discovery of one shilling and a groat.
"Precisely as I surmised," nodded my uncle Jervas, "having had your
every possible want supplied hitherto, money is a sordid vulgarity you
know little about, yet, if you persist in adventuring your precious
person into the world of men and action, you will find money a
somewhat useful adjunct. In this purse are some twelve guineas or
so--" here he thrust the purse into the right-hand pocket of my coat.

"And six in this, Perry!" said uncle George, thrusting his purse into
my left pocket.

"So here are eighteen-odd guineas," quoth uncle Jervas, "a paltry and
most inadequate sum, perhaps, but these should last you a few
days--with care, or at least until, wearying of hardship, you steal
back into the silken lap of luxury."

"And look 'ee, Perry lad," added uncle George, clapping me on the