“It's better than dicing or card-playing!” said the blacksmith.
“You're right there! I hope he has learned neither. I want to teach him those things myself.—He's not an ill-looking fellow!”
“There's not a better lad in England, sir! If you had brought him up as he is, you might ha' been proud o' your work!”
“He seems proud of somebody's work!—prouder of himself than his prospects, by Jove!” said sir Wilton, feeling his way. “You should have taught him not to quarrel with his bread and butter!”
“I never saw any call to teach him that. He never quarrelled with anything at my table, sir. A man who has earned his own bread and butter ever since he left school, is not likely to quarrel with it.”
“You don't say he has done so?”
“I do—and can prove it!—Did you tell him, sir, you were his father?”
“Of course I did!—and before I said another word, there we were quarrelling—just as it was with me and my father!”
“He never told me!” said Simon, half to himself, and ready to feel hurt.
“He didn't tell you?”