At the proper hour he closed the door of his shop. Then he washed his face, and put beeswax on the dwindling points of his mustache, and he came out of Barnes into Thornton East; into High Road, where is his brother's shop.
"That is you," said John to him.
"How was you, man?" Silas asked. "Talk the name of the old malady."
"Say what you have to say in English," John answered in a little voice. "It is easier and classier."
That which was spoken was rendered into English; and John replied: "I am pleazed to see you. Take the bowler off your head and don't put her on the harimonium. The zweat will mark the wood."
"The love of brothers push me here," said Silas. "It is past understanding. As boyss we learn the same pray-yer. And we talked the same temperance dialogue in Capel Zion. I was always the temperance one. And quite a champion reziter. The way is round and about, boy bach, from Zion to the grave."
"Don't speak like that," pleaded John. "I caught a cold going to the City to get ztok. I will be healthy by the beginning of the week."
"Be it so. Yet I am full of your trouble. Sick you are and how's trade?"
"Very brisk. I am opening a shop in Richmond again," John said.
"You're learning me something. Don't you think too much of that shop; Death is near and set your mind on the crossing."