"Sorry I b'ain't a butcher, sir," said Squinting Jack.
"I've got a very good half Persian cat for sale at two shillings," George continued.
"How much would ye charge vor the whole cat?" asked Squinting Jack.
"I mean it's part Persian."
"Which part?" asked the humourist.
George laughed somewhat feebly, while Squinting Jack continued, "I've got a whole English cat what you can have vor nothing."
By this time George had discovered he was not so well liked as formerly, and the reason was not far to seek: Kezia and Bessie were advertising their own triumph and trumpeting his misfortunes. George went a long walk, climbed a steep hill, and sat upon the summit, trying to work out a plan of campaign which might enable him to obtain the victory over all his enemies.
"Why not shift the responsibility?" he muttered at length. "That's the plan right enough—shift it on to Percy. He wants to run the whole show—why not let him?"
George meditated yet more deeply, rubbing his head which was nothing like so dense as his relations had supposed. "Percy means to do me, so it's my duty to do him. When you want to catch anything you set a trap. And now I've got it!" George shouted exultantly. "I'll tempt Percy with the furniture—I'll get him to buy it! Then I shall have the cash, while he can settle with Kezia and Bessie, and all the rest of the beastly, selfish, money grabbing crowd."