“I don’t much like it, Jess.”
“What, don’t like money?”
“Too much of it is dangerous. I hope it won’t harm us, lass.”
“It’s done no harm to me yet, as I knows of,” said Mrs Gaff firmly.
“What says the Bible, Tot, about that?” asked Gaff. “Money’s the root o’ all evil, an’t it?”
“No, daddy, it’s the love o’ money that’s the root of all evil.”
“Ah, to be sure. Well, there’s a difference there. Hows’ever, we can’t help it, so we must larn to bear it. Come along now, Jess, and let us have supper.”
To supper they sat down, and long they sat over it, and a hearty one they ate. It was not till they began to think of retiring for the night that it was remembered that there was no possibility of putting up Billy in the cottage, for Tottie occupied the closet of the “boodwar.” The Bu’ster relieved his parents from their difficulty, however, by asserting that he had taken a wild desire to see Mad Haco that night; so, declining the offer of a shake-down made up under the four-poster, he started for Wreckumoft, and took up his quarters in the Sailors’ Home.