Mr. Jupp. I might be able to squeeze in an hour here and there. Suppose—I only say suppose, mind—I was to come for an hour every morning before I started in regular at my day’s work, wherever it might be—at “The Nook,” or “Bellyvista,” or “Sans Souci,” or “The Red Bungalow,” or “The Corner House,” or wherever it was? Although, of course, I ought to be in my own garden then, as the missus here well knows. What would it be worth your while to give me?
“La Hacienda.” For an hour every morning early?
Mr. Jupp. Yes, sir, time I ought to be giving to my own garden.
“La Hacienda.” Well, as it’s important, and you seem to be the only jobbing gardener about here——
Mr. Jupp. No, sir, there’s no other, and even if there was, he wouldn’t be any good. He wouldn’t understand the soil. It’s very curious soil about here. It’s a matter of a lifetime to learn it.
“La Hacienda.” Well, I wouldn’t mind as much as a shilling an hour, at any rate at first. Would that do?
Mr. Jupp. Well, I’ll think about it, and let you know, sir. I can’t decide anything till I’ve seen the gentleman at “The Trossachs.” He has the first claim on any of my spare time, such as it is; but I’ll let you know.
[Exit “La Hacienda”; enter “The Cedars,” on a similar errand.]
V.—The Second Fiddle
“He is tall and thin; a Jew, of course. They are always Jews. He has a large hook nose such as I detest and a black moustache. He dresses very carefully, but it is cheap stuff; still, it looks smart, and women are so foolish. His hair is not long, for he wishes to be thought a man of the world as well as a musician. But I must confess he plays well, so far as technique goes, though he never feels it.