“I say, cook, mustn't dish up for the next ten minutes; master ain't quite finished his next Sunday's sermon; he's got hitched just at thirdly and lastly, and mustn't be disturbed; not on no account”;—which produced from that functionary the following pathetic rejoinder:—
“Then, it's hall hup with the pigeon pie, for it will be burnt as black as my blessed shoe by that time!”
As I was descending the stairs, ready to go out, the next day, Oaklands called me into his room, and, closing the door, said:—
“Well, Fairlegh, I have thought over all you said yesterday,—made up my mind—and acted upon it”.
“Bravo!” replied I, “I am so glad, for, whenever you will but rouse yourself, you are sure to act more rightly and sensibly than anybody else; but what have you done now? Let me hear all about it.”
“Oh, nothing very wonderful,” answered Oaklands; “when I came to look at my pocket-book, I found I had lost, from first to last, above one hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Good gracious!” cried I, aghast at the magnitude of the sum; “what will you do?”
Oaklands smiled at my look of horror, and continued:—
“About one hundred pounds of this I still owe Cumberland, for, after my ready money was gone, I merely set down on paper all I won or lost, as he said I could pay him at any time, just as it suited me best; and I thought I would wait till I got my next quarter's allowance, pay him out of that, and be very economical ever after. Well, when I saw what the sums amounted to, I found this plan certainly would not answer, and that I was getting into a mess; so I made up my mind to put an end to the thing at once,—and sat down to write to my father, telling him I had been playing billiards every day for some time past with a friend,—of course I did not mention who,—and that, without being at all aware of it, my losses had mounted up till I owed him one hundred pounds. I mentioned at the same time that I had a pretty long bill at Smithson's; and then went on to say that I saw the folly, if not worse than folly, of what I had been doing; and that I applied to him, as the best friend I had in the world,—and I am sure he is too, Frank,—to save me from the consequences of my own imprudence.”
“I am very glad you did that; it was much the wisest thing,” interrupted I.