The other pushed it towards him.
“If I was only young enough—and silly enough,” said the boarding-house master, producing a pipe with an unusually large bowl and slowly filling it, “there's nothing I should enjoy more than a three years' cruise. Nothing to do and everything of the best.”
“'Ave you made all the arrangements?” inquired Mr. Wilks, in a tone of cold superiority.
Mr. Smith glanced affectionately at a fish-bag of bulky appearance which stood on the floor between his feet. “All ready,” he said, cheerfully, “an' if you'd like a v'y'ge yourself I can manage it for you in two twos. You've on'y got to say the word.”
“I don't want one,” said the steward, fiercely; “don't you try none o' your larks on me, Nathan Smith, cos I won't have it.”
“Lord love your 'art,” said the boarding-master, “I wouldn't 'urt you. I'm on'y acting under your orders now; yours and the captin's. It ain't in my reg'lar way o' business at all, but I'm so good-natured I can't say 'no.'”
“Can't say 'no' to five pounds, you mean,” retorted Mr. Wilks, who by no means relished these remarks.