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Im a jolly old tender-hearted lamb, I am, cried Mr Jowl, to be sitting here at my time of life giving advice when I know it wont be taken, and that I shall get nothing but abuse for my pains. But thats the way Ive gone through life. Experience has never put a chill upon my warm-heartedness. I tell you hes very sorry, dont I? remonstrated Isaac List, and that he wishes youd go on. Does he wish it? said the other. Ay, groaned the old man sitting down, and rocking himself to and fro. Go on, go on. Its in vain to fight with it; I cant do it; go on. I go on then, said Jowl, where I left off, when you got up so quick. If youre persuaded that its time for luck to turn, as it certainly is, and find that you havent means enough to try it (and thats where it is, for you know yourself that you never have the funds to keep on long enough at a sitting), help yourself to what seems put in your way on purpose. Borrow it, I say, and, when youre able, pay it back again. Certainly, Isaac List struck in, if this good lady as keeps the wax-works has money, and does keep it in a tin box when she goes to bed, and doesnt lock her door for fear of fire, it seems a easy thing; quite a Providence, I should call it but then Ive been religiously brought up. You see, Isaac, said his friend, growing more eager, and drawing himself closer to the old man, while he signed to the gypsy not to come between them; you see, Isaac, strangers are going in and out every hour of the day; nothing would be more likely than for one of these strangers to get under the good ladys bed, or lock himself in the cupboard; suspicion would be very wide, and would fall a long way from the mark, no doubt. Id give him his revenge to the last farthing he brought, whatever the amount was. But could you? urged Isaac List. Is your bank strong enough? Strong enough! answered the other, with assumed disdain. Here, you Sir, give me that box out of the straw! This was addressed to the gypsy, who crawled into the low tent on all fours, and after some rummaging and rustling returned with a cash-box, which the man who had spoken opened with a key he wore about his person. Do you see this? he said, gathering up the money in his hand and letting it drop back into the box, between his fingers, like water. Do you hear it? Do you know the sound of gold? There, put it back and dont talk about banks again, Isaac, till youve got one of your own. Isaac List, with great apparent humility, protested that he had never doubted the credit of a gentleman so notorious for his honourable dealing as Mr Jowl, and that he had hinted at the production of the box, not for the satisfaction of his doubts, for he could have none, but with a view to being regaled with a sight of so much wealth, which, though it might be deemed by some but an unsubstantial and visionary pleasure, was to one in his circumstances a source of extreme delight, only to be surpassed by its safe depository in his own personal pockets. Although Mr List and Mr Jowl addressed themselves to each other, it was remarkable that they both looked narrowly at the old man, who, with his eyes fixed upon the fire, sat brooding over it, yet listening eagerly as it seemed from a certain involuntary motion of the head, or twitching of the face from time to time to all they said. My advice, said Jowl lying down again with a careless air, is plain I have given it, in fact. I act as a friend. Why should I help a man to the means perhaps of winning all I have, unless I considered him my friend? Its foolish, I dare say, to be so thoughtful of the welfare of other people, but thats my constitution, and I cant help it; so dont blame me, Isaac List. |
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