"And somebody slopped a lot of water over the stairs carrying it up,"
said Mrs. Jobson. "I don't believe as everybody has cold baths of a
morning. It don't seem wholesome to me."

Mr. Jobson took a book from his pocket, and opening it at a certain page,
handed it over to her.

"If I'm going to do the thing at all I must do it properly," he said,
gravely. "I don't suppose Bill Foley ever 'ad a cold tub in his life; he
don't know no better. Gladys!"

"Halloa!" said that young lady, with a start.

"Are you--are you eating that kipper with your fingers?"

Gladys turned and eyed her mother appealingly.

"Page-page one hundred and something, I think it is," said her father,
with his mouth full. "'Manners at the Dinner Table.' It's near the end
of the book, I know."

"If I never do no worse than that I shan't come to no harm," said his
daughter.

Mr. Jobson shook his head at her, and after eating his breakfast with
great care, wiped his mouth on his handkerchief and went into the shop.

"I suppose it's all right," said Mrs. Jobson, looking after him, "but
he's taking it very serious--very."