"It will give you a splendid reputation for liberality. Everybody in the parish will know you have given the Mudges five pounds and a week's leave of absence."
"I works vor my reputation, sir. Two pounds would ruin me. I can't tell ye how bad things be; I'd be ashamed to speak the truth, sir; I don't hardly like to think on it. Often, when missus fancies I'm asleep, she has a gude cry. She knows we can't pay five shillings in the pound if miller wur to call vor what us owes 'en."
"I'll subscribe four pounds, if you will give the other," said George.
"Where would I get a pound from?" asked Dyer, more drearily than ever. "I'd have to borrow, or sell the bed I tries to sleep on, but can't vor all the trouble. A sovereign, sir, is more to me than to any one else in this parish."
"I've heard that before, and I believe it."
"And it's the truth. Twenty shillings might make the difference between pulling down the blinds today, or keeping 'em up till next week."
"Will you give ten shillings?" George inquired desperately.
The baker shook his head like one in pain, muttering something about last straws and poor relief.
"Will you give anything?"
"Well, sir, to show my heart's in the right place I'll sacrifice a shilling. I'll grab it from the till when missus ain't looking."