“Tell your mother, you great calf! You had better not,” roared Mr Dempster. “She has troubles enough. It was only out of charity to her that I took you on. For you are useless—perfectly useless. I lose pounds through your blunders. There, that will do. Get on with your work.”
He went back into the inner office, and banged the door so heavily that all the auction bills which papered the walls of our office began to flap and swing about. Then for a few minutes there was only the scratching of our pens to be heard.
Then Esau gave a tremendous sniff, began wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his jacket, and held the blotting-paper against each in turn as he looked across at me.
“’Tain’t crying,” he said. “Only water. Ketch him making me cry!”
“You were crying,” I said, quietly.
“No, I wasn’t. Don’t you get turning again’ me too. Take a better man than him to make me cry.”
I laughed.
“Ah, you may grin,” grumbled my companion; “but just you have your head knocked again’ the desk, and just you see if it wouldn’t make your eyes water.”
At that moment the door was opened with a snatch.
“Silence there! You, Gordon, will you go on with your work?”