“Ever see Hallett now?”
“Every day nearly.”
“Humph! Decent fellow, Hallett; sorry he left us. Cleanest proofs I ever had. That man always read his stick, Grace. You always read yours?”
“But you forget I am not a printer now, Mr Jabez.”
“No, I don’t, stupid. Can’t you see I was speaking in metaphors? Always read your stick, boy, through life. When you’ve done a thing, go over it again to see if it’s right; and then, at the end, you’ll find your proof-sheets of life are not half so foul. Tell Hallett, when you see him again, to give me a look up. I rather liked him.”
“Why, you never seemed to like him, Mr Jabez,” I said.
“Well, what of that, boy? Can’t a man like anybody without always going about and grinning?”
He took another pinch of snuff, and then nodded and tapped his box.
“How’s Mr Grimstone?” I said, smiling.
“Oh, hard as a nut, and as awkward. Gives me a deal of trouble.”