Sawn Off Part 16

"Ever so much," growled the old fellow, going on with his smoking; while d.i.c.k, glancing over his shoulder, and seeing that his wife's attention was taken up with the binding, slipped a half-ounce packet of tobacco into his old friend's hand, with a nod and a wink, to indicate that the strictest secrecy must be observed.

"Yes," continued d.i.c.k, retiring towards his bench; "that's what I always say--brothers is brothers, and blood's thicker than water. And as to Max--well, it's a way he's got, and he can't help it."

"Stuff!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs s.h.i.+ngle sharply.

"No, no, mother, it ain't stuff neither; so don't talk like that. Here, you sir," he cried to the boy, who was standing staring from one to the other, "get to work, you luxurious young rascal. That ain't the way to improve your s.h.i.+ning hours. Wax up and get ready a pair of fine points to mend them old shoes."

"All right, master," said the boy. And, slipping off his threadbare jacket, he sat down on a stool, and began to unwind a ball of hemp.

"I don't believe in such brothers," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle bitterly.

"Brothers, indeed!"

"No, that's it, mother; it's because you are a bit put out. But you'll see it in the right light soon."

"Ah!" he continued, rearranging the band round his forehead; and then, catching sight of a letter tucked behind the gla.s.s, "Now, if old Uncle Rounce's money--or present, as he calls it--would drop in now, it would be welcome."

As he spoke he opened the often-perused letter, which was written on thin paper and bore Australian postmarks, and began to read aloud:

"`Thinking that a little money might be useful, I have sent you a present'--and so on. Now, I wonder when that money's coming."

"Never," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle tartly.

"Now, there's where you are so wrong, mother," said d.i.c.k. "It's very kind of the old fellow, who must have got on famously to be able to send us a few pounds--it's sure to be pounds when it does come."

"And it won't never come," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle; "for you've had that letter nine months."

"Well, if it don't, mother, it don't--that's all; but what I say is, blood is thicker than water, or else old Uncle Eb--as I never see, only heard o--wouldn't have said he'd send me a present--would he, Hoppy?"

"Hey?"

"I say Uncle Rounce wouldn't have said he'd send me a present if blood warn't thicker than water."

"No. Have you got it yet?" said the old fellow.

"No, not yet. I asked Max about it, and he said he didn't believe it would come."

"He said that, did he?"

"Yes, he said that," replied d.i.c.k, doubling the letter again, and replacing it behind the old looking-gla.s.s. "I dessay it'll come, though, some day."

"You had better try and sell those boots at once," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle rather impatiently, and as if she had not much faith in the coming money.

"Sell 'em? Yes; but who's to buy 'em? There's only two feet in London as will fit 'em, and they're Max's."

"I declare it's too bad, d.i.c.k dear, and we so pressed for money. The rent's due, you know. Rolling in riches, as he is, and to behave so to his poor brother, who works so hard."

"Gently, mother, gently: it's only a way he's got. But I do work pretty hard, don't I?--only I'm so unlucky."

"Why don't you make a good dash at something, instead of plodding, then?" said Hopper suddenly.

"Come, now," cried d.i.c.k, with an ill-used look and tone, "don't you turn round on me, Hoppy, old man. We're too good friends for that. It's what Max always says; and I ain't clever, so how can I?"

Hopper relapsed into silence.

"There, there, I shall get over it," continued d.i.c.k, working away; "and as to rolling in riches, why, Max can't help rolling in riches, any more than I can help rolling in nothing. It's his way. But I say, mother, if we had riches, I think I could roll in 'em with the best."

"Don't talk nonsense, d.i.c.k," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, "when we're so worried too. There," she added, in a whisper, as their visitor rose, "we're driving him away."

"Going, Hoppy, old man?" said d.i.c.k, as their visitor rose and laid aside his pipe.

"Yes, going now," said the old fellow. "I'll drop in, perhaps, in the evening."

"We haven't put you out, have we?" said d.i.c.k.

"No, no, my lad; it's all right. d.i.c.k, just lend me sixpence. My money is not due till Monday."

d.i.c.k's countenance fell, and he glanced at his wife.

"Have you got a sixpence, Polly?" he said.

"Not one," was the reply.

"I'm very sorry, Hoppy, old man," said d.i.c.k, looking more puzzled than ever, and as if this time he really could not understand why he should be so poor and his brother so rich--"but really I haven't got it."

"Never mind," said the old fellow--"never mind; I dare say I can do without."

And, grumbling and muttering, he took up his hat and stick, and went off.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER THREE.

A POOR JUDGE ON THE BENCH.

"Now he's put out," said d.i.c.k, looking puzzled at his wife. "I did not mean to upset him; but a man can't lend another man what he hasn't got, can he, mother?" There was no answer--only the clicking of Mrs s.h.i.+ngle's needle against her thimble.

"I say a man can't lend what he hasn't got, can he, mother?" said d.i.c.k again, as he bent over some strange performance that he was achieving with an awl and some wax-end.

"I wasn't thinking of that, d.i.c.k," said his wife, with a sigh, "but of the money for the boots."

"There, you needn't fidget about that," said d.i.c.k, throwing out his arms so as to draw the hemp tight; "for we shouldn't have had the money if he had kept the boots."

"Not had the money?"

"No--he meant to keep it for the rent. He said so."

"There!" exclaimed Mrs s.h.i.+ngle. "Well, that comes of having your brother for your landlord. He's as hard again as any one else."

"Well, Max always was a hard one, certainly, my dear. Ever since we were boys together, `Merry, merry boys--since we were boys together,'"

he sang. Then, descending once more to everyday-life conversation, he went on, "He was a hard one, Max was; and as to money, he'd always have a penny or twopence when I had none, even if he borrowed it of me."