“The trouble with Sewell is,” said Corey, “that he doesn't always take the trouble to have them deserving. I hope this is interesting, at least.”
“I suspect you'll find it more interesting than I shall,” said the minister, inwardly preparing himself for the amusement which Lemuel's history always created in his hearers. It seemed to him, as he began, that he was always telling this story, and that his part in the affair was always becoming less and less respectable. No point was lost upon his hearers; they laughed till the ladies in the drawing-room above wondered what the joke could be.
“At any rate,” said Bellingham, “the fellow behaved magnificently at the fire. I read the accounts of it.”
“I think his exploits owe something to the imagination of the reporters,” said Sewell. “He tells a different story himself.”
“Oh, of course!” said Bellingham.
“Well; and what else?” asked Corey.
“There isn't any more. Simply he's out of work, and wants something to do—anything to do—anything that isn't menial.”
“Ah, that's a queer start of his,” said Bellingham thoughtfully. “I don't know but I like that.”
“And do you come to such effete posterity as we are for help in a case like that?” demanded Corey. “Why, the boy's an Ancestor!”
“So he is! Why, so he is—so he is!” said Bellingham, with delight in the discovery. “Of course he is!”