Rogues and Vagabonds. George R. Sims

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      Miss Duck said, ‘La, Mr. Smith, what a funny man you are!’ and then George made small jokes, smaller than any Jabez had ever been guilty of in his life; but Miss Duck giggled prodigiously.

      George declared privately to Bess that Miss Duck was a very decent old soul; and as Georgina had been particularly gracious, Bess agreed that she was. ‘Only it’s lucky for you. George, she’s so old and plain, or I should be jealous.’

      I hope Miss Duck wasn’t listening at the key-hole to hear this remark, and I sincerely trust she wasn’t looking through it to witness the manner in which George closed Bess’s wicked little mouth.

      That was yesterday. This morning there is no frivolity going on. George is reading the newspaper in order to find a berth that will suit him.

      The disappearance of half his capital has reminded him that he is no longer a gentleman, but a young man who has a wife to keep and his living to earn.

      When he comes to a likely advertisement, he reads it aloud to Bess, and they discuss it.

      ‘How do you think this will do, dear?’ he says, presently:

      ‘ “Wanted, a married man, without encumbrance, to drive a pair, look after a small garden, help in the house, and fill up his spare time as amanuensis to a deaf lady. A small salary, but the person will have the advantage of living in a vegetarian family, where total abstinence and Church of England principles offer special advantages to a true Christian.” ’

      ‘How’ll that do?’ asked George, with a smile.

      ‘Not at all,’ answered Bess, laughing. ‘But George dear, what does “encumbrance” mean?’

      ‘You, my pet.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sure it doesn’t. What does it mean?’

      ‘Ask me again in a year or two, my darling,’ answered George, with a wicked little smile, and then he went on with his paper.

      Bess went on wondering what ‘encumbrance’ a married man could have till George read her another advertisement.

      ‘Advertiser would be glad to hear of a gentleman by birth, not more than thirty, who would introduce advertiser’s homemade brandy to the upper classes. A liberal commission given. A real gentleman might do well.’

      ‘Oh, George,’ said Bess, ‘don’t go after that, dear. I don’t want you to go walking about with brandy-bottles sticking out of your pockets.’

      ‘And fancy introducing it to the upper classes, eh? This sort of thing:—Allow me to introduce you: Upper Classes—Home-made Brandy. Home-made Brandy—Upper Classes.’

      Bess laughed as George introduced the arm-chair to the sofa with a stately bow. The arm-chair was the brandy, and the sofa was the upper classes.

      George read on, selecting the funny advertisements for Bess’s amusement. Suddenly he put the paper down.

      ‘By Jove, Bess,’ he exclaimed, rubbing his hands, I believe I’ve found the very thing. Listen to this, little woman.’

      George picked the paper up, folded it out carefully, rose and struck a commanding attitude, then, clearing his voice, he read aloud the following advertisement:

      ‘ “Wanted immediately, a gentleman for a commercial office. No previous experience necessary. Hours, ten to four. Salary to commence with, £150 per annum. N.B.—Must be of gentlemanly appearance and address.—Apply, in first instance by letter, to A. B., Burkett’s Library, Leicester Square.” ’

      ‘Oh, George,’ exclaimed Bess, when he had finished, ‘do write at once. It would be just the thing to begin with.’

      ‘Magnificent!’ answered her husband. ‘Hours ten to four, no previous knowledge, and £3 a week. Why, my dear, it would be a splendid beginning.’

      ‘So it would,’ said Bess; ‘and I’m sure, dear, you’re just what they want.’

      George grinned.

      ‘I say, little woman’ (the conceited fellow was looking in the glass all the while), ‘the applicant must be of gentlemanly appearance. Perhaps my appearance will be against me.’

      ‘You vain boy; you want me to flatter you,’ said Bess, looking at him lovingly, ‘and I shan’t. You’ll do very well indeed, sir, and you know it.’

      George was quite certain he should do.

      Bess routed out some writing-paper, and then she went down to Miss Duck and borrowed a pen and ink, and then she and George sat down and spoilt a dozen sheets of paper, and at last between them they produced the following:

      ‘Mr. George Smith presents his compliments to Mr. A. B., and he would be very pleased to accept his offer. He is four-and-twenty, active, and anxious to get on. If Mr. A. B. wishes for an interview, he will call at any time Mr. A. B. chooses to appoint. Mr. George Smith thinks it well to enclose his carte for Mr. A. B. to see. Will Mr. A. B. kindly answer per return.’

      When the important note was folded and in the envelope, and the address had been carefully copied from the paper, Bess and George both went together to put it in the post. Bess peeped down the letter-box to see if it had gone safely in, and then George peeped, and then they both walked away full of hope, and feeling sure that the photograph would settle the matter at once.

      ‘If A. B. were a lady it would,’ said George.

      Then Bess said he was a nasty vain thing, and he thought all the girls were in love with him.

      To which George replied that it didn’t much matter if they were, as he was only in love with one girl, and she was the dearest little girl in the world, and God bless her little heart, etc., etc., which style of conversation being probably quite familiar to the reader, there is no necessity to make further extracts from it.

      It was very wicked of Bess to do what she did that night, I dare say, but you see she had not been brought up very well. She knelt down and prayed to God to bless her dear husband, who had sacrificed so much for her, and she asked Him to let them live happily together all their lives; and, oh, if God would only let George get this situation and make Mr. A. B. love him, she would be, oh, so thankful. Her heart was full of gratitude to God for giving her George’s love, and that night it poured out and spread itself over everything she loved and knew. And as she was dropping off to sleep, George distinctly heard her say—

      ‘God bless Mr. A. B.’

      And he wasn’t a bit jealous.

CHAPTER IX. CONCERNING GERTIE HECKETT, A KIND LADY, A GOOD DOG, AND A WICKED BIRD.

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      Mr. Josh Heckett was about again, and Gertie and the animals were having a bad time of it.

      The temporary retirement from business which had been necessitated by Mr. Heckett’s injuries—how СКАЧАТЬ