“Why, sir, I thought He would say, ‘Old Rogers, have yer baccay; only mind ye don’t grumble when you ‘aint got none.’”
Something in this—I could not at the time have told what—touched me more than I can express. No doubt it was the simple reality of the relation in which the old man stood to his Father in heaven that made me feel as if the tears would come in spite of me.
“And this is the man,” I said to myself, “whom I thought I should be able to teach! Well, the wisest learn most, and I may be useful to him after all.”
As I said nothing, the old man resumed—
“For you see, sir, it is not always a body feels he has a right to spend his ha’pence on baccay; and sometimes, too, he aint got none to spend.”
“In the meantime,” I said, “here is some that I bought for you as I came along. I hope you will find it good. I am no judge.”
The old sailor’s eyes glistened with gratitude. “Well, who’d ha’ thought it. You didn’t think I was beggin’ for it, sir, surely?”
“You see I had it for you in my pocket.”
“Well, that IS good o’ you, sir!”
“Why, Rogers, that’ll last you a month!” exclaimed his wife, looking nearly as pleased as himself.