“Come Dad,” said George “you’re not getting on. Not got many grinders——?”
“What I’ve got’s in th’ road. Is’ll ’ae ter get em out. I can manage wi’ bare gums, like a baby again.”
“Second childhood, eh? Ah well, we must all come to it,” George laughed.
The old man lifted his head and looked at him, and said slowly:
“You’n got ter ower th’ first afore that.”
George laughed, unperturbed. Evidently he was well used to the thrusts of the public-house.
“I suppose you soon got over yours,” he said.
The old man raised himself and his eyes flickered into life. He chewed slowly, then said:
“I’d married, an’ paid for it; I’d broke a constable’s jaw an’ paid for it; I’d deserted from the army, an’ paid for that: I’d had a bullet through my cheek in India atop of it all, by I was your age.”
“Oh!” said George, with condescending interest, “you’ve seen a bit of life then?”