Mr. Speck.—“Nor I either. The day for India is over, this is our India now.” (Misses his tobacco-pipe; sees it in Bullion’s mouth, and stares aghast. N. B. The pipe is not a clay dudeen, but a small meerschaum.—irreplaceable in Bushland.)
Pisistratus.—“Well, uncle, but I am at a loss to understand what new scheme you have in hand. Something benevolent, I am sure; something for your fellow-creatures,—for philanthropy and mankind?”
Mr. Bullion (starting).—“Why, young man, are you as green as all that?”
Pisistratus.—“I, sir? No; Heaven forbid! But my—” (Uncle Jack holds up his forefinger imploringly, and spills his tea over the pantaloons of his nephew!)
Pisistratus, wroth at the effect of the tea, and therefore obdurate to the sign of the forefinger, continues rapidly, “But my uncle is! Some Grand National-Imperial-Colonial-Anti-Monopoly—”
Uncle Jack.—“Pooh! pooh! What a droll boy it is!”
Mr. Bullion (solemnly).—“With these notions, which not even in jest should be fathered on my respectable and intelligent friend here [Uncle Jack bows], I am afraid you will never get on in the world, Mr. Caxton. I don’t think our speculations will suit you! It is growing late, gentlemen; we must push on.”
Uncle Jack (jumping up).—“And I have so much to say to the dear boy. Excuse us,—you know the feelings of an uncle.” (Takes my arm and leads me out of the hut.)
Uncle Jack (as soon as we are in the air).—“You’ll ruin us—you, me, and your father and mother. Yes! What do you think I work and slave myself for but for you and yours? Ruin us all. I say, if you talk in that way before Bullion! His heart is as hard as the Bank of England’s,—and quite right he is too. Fellow-creatures,—stuff! I have renounced that delusion,—the generous follies of my youth! I begin at last to live for myself,—that is, for self and relatives. I shall succeed this time, you’ll see!”
Pisistratus.—“Indeed, uncle, I hope so sincerely; and, to do you justice, there is always something very clever in your ideas, only they don’t—”