“Oh, yes!” I said eagerly.
“Then I will do it,” he said, and untying his neckerchief, he, to my great surprise, began to unroll it, to show me the two ends that were hidden in the folds. “For a rainy day,” he said, “and this is a rainy day for you. Look here, young un; this is my purse. Here’s two half-sovs tied up in these two corners—that’s one for you, and one for me.”
“Oh, no, sir,” I said, “I’d rather not take it!” and I shrank away, for he seemed so poor and shabby, that the idea troubled me.
“I don’t care whether you’d rather or not,” he said, untying one corner with his teeth. “You take it, and some day when you’ve made your fortune, you give it me back—if so be as you find I haven’t succeeded to my estate.”
“Do you expect to come in for an estate some day, sir?” I said eagerly.
“Bless your young innocence, yes. A piece of old mother earth, my boy, six foot long, and two foot wide. Just enough to bury me in.”
I understood him now, and a pang shot through me at the idea of another one who had been kind to me dying. He saw my look and nodded sadly.
“Yes, my lad, perhaps I shall be dead and gone long before then.”
“Oh, sir, don’t; it’s so dreadful!” I said.
“No, no, my boy,” he said quietly; and he patted my shoulder, as he pressed the half-sovereign into my hand. “Not so dreadful as you think. It sounds very awful to you youngsters, with the world before you, and all hope and brightness; but some day, please God you live long enough, you’ll begin to grow very tired, and then it will seem to you more like going to take a long rest. But there, there, we won’t talk like that. Here, give me that money back?”