“You ought to be able to do so with common prudence. You are a skilful workman, and, with ordinary care and attention, might earn a respectable livelihood.”
“At it again,” exclaimed Bristow with a coarse laugh. “The same old game—moralising. What man was ever made sober by preaching I should like to know?”
“And do you never intend to reform?”
“Me? Ha, ha! I’m afraid I’m too far gone for that.”
“Then I should be ashamed to acknowledge it, if I were you—that’s all I have to say about the matter, Bristow; you are positively incorrigible.”
“You’re a good fellow, Charlie, but curse your preaching. I never could stand that; but there, I don’t mean to offend you.”
“Oh, you don’t offend me. What I say is for your own good. It is no business of mine, you may answer. Perhaps not, but nevertheless it is my duty to offer you some advice, however unpalatable it may be.”
“You ought to have been a parson, Charlie, upon my word you ought. You’d ha’ made your fortune in the preaching line.”
“Well, say no more upon the subject. I have business to attend to, and so we must part.”
“Where am I to send to you? Where do you hang out now?”