"
"'Ear, 'ear," exclaimed Mr. Smith, approvingly. "Ah! wot a thing it is
to come acrost an honest man. Wot a good thing it is for the eyesight."
He stared stonily somewhere in the direction of Mr. Wilks, and then
blinking rapidly shielded his eyes with his hand as though overcome by
the sight of so much goodness. The steward's wrath rose at the
performance, and he glowered back at him until his eyes watered.
"Twenty past six," said Mr. Smith, suddenly, as he fumbled in his
waistcoat-pocket and drew out a small folded paper. "It's time I made a
start. I s'pose you've got some salt in the house?"
"Plenty," said Mr. Wilks.
"And beer?" inquired the other.
"Yes, there is some beer," said the steward.
"Bring me a quart of it," said the boarding-master, slowly and
impressively. "I want it drawed in a china mug, with a nice foaming 'ead
on it."
"Wot do you want it for?" inquired Mr. Wilks, eyeing him very closely.
"Bisness purposes," said Mr. Smith. "If you're very good you shall see
'ow I do it."
Still the steward made no move. "I thought you brought the stuff with
you," he remarked.
Mr. Smith looked at him with mild reproach. "Are you managing this
affair or am I?" he inquired.
The steward went out reluctantly, and drawing a quart mug of beer set it
down on the table and stood watching his visitor.
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