“You have a good word to say for everybody, sir,” said Cotton with deep respect; “but have you, even, ever got a penny from Mr. Dodson far a charity?”
“Well, I cannot say that I remember an instance; only I'm sure that he has his own way of doing good. Every one has, unless he be utterly bad; and I'm seventy years old, gentle-men, and I never met that kind yet.”
“Greatheart is the only man in Liverpool who would say a word for Dodson,” said Lard a minute later, “and in this case his charity has rather overshot the mark; but it does one good to hear the old man. He is a walking Sermon on the Mount, and the best thing about him is that he believes in everybody; the very sight of his white hair makes me a better man.”
II
“How tired you must be, Fred, after four hours' begging in offices! I'll bring you a cup of tea in the study at once, and then you are to have a nice little dinner all to yourself.
“Oh, no, I've not been extravagant at all, and I've not taken any money out of our alms-box, and I'm not a wicked parson's wife who gets into debt; but a hamper came from the country, with lots of good things in it, and you will have the chicken; the children and I simply rioted in plenty to-day. Now, I'll not hear a word about your expedition until you have had some food.”
“There, I feel a perfect glutton, Ethel. I hope you have sent some of the h-hamper to the sick.”
“I've done nothing of the kind; every single bit is to be eaten in this Vicarage of St Ambrose; you would starve yourself and your family for the parish, and I am sure you are the hardest working man in it. Well, have you got the money to furnish the playground of St Ambrose's?”
“Do you mean have I come home with £54 in my pocket as the result of one r-raid by a poor, dull, s-stammering parson, who couldn't make an eloquent appeal to save his life?”
“You don't stammer, Fred, and I wish you wouldn't say such things; you may... hesitate at a time, and I am sure any one would give you money for a good cause, because you are... so sincere and...”