At this I halted and suffered them to approach nearer.
"You do not meditate attempting the futility of force?" I demanded.
"We do not!" said uncle Jervas.
"Word of honour!" cried uncle George.
"On the contrary," continued uncle Jervas, handing me my silver-buttoned, frogged surtout, "I for one heartily concur and commend your decision in so far as concerns yourself—a trifle of hardship is good for youth and should benefit you amazingly, nephew—"
"B'gad, yes!" nodded uncle George. "Fine thing, hardship—if not too hard. So we thought it well to see that you did not go short of the—ah—needful, d'ye see."
"Needful, sir?" I enquired.
"Rhino, lad—chink, my boy!"
"Ha, to be sure," sighed uncle Jervas, noting my bewilderment. "These coarse metaphors are but empty sounds in your chaste ears, nephew—brother George is trying to say money. Do you happen to have a sufficiency of such dross about you, pray?" A search of my various pockets resulted in the discovery of one shilling and a groat. "Precisely as I surmised," nodded my uncle Jervas, "having had your every possible want supplied hitherto, money is a sordid vulgarity you know little about, yet, if you persist in adventuring your precious person into the world of men and action, you will find money a somewhat useful adjunct. In this purse are some twelve guineas or so—" here he thrust the purse into the right-hand pocket of my coat.
"And six in this, Perry!" said uncle George, thrusting his purse into my left pocket.