description of his character drawn with the loving skill of an artist
whose whole heart was in his work, and who seemed never tired of filling
in details.

"If you ever have the hardihood to come to my house again," he concluded,
"I'll break every bone in your misshapen body. Get!"

Mr. Wilks turned and groped his way to the door. Then he went a little
way back with some idea of defending himself, but the door of the room
was slammed in his face. He walked slowly down the path to the road and
stood there for some time in helpless bewilderment. In all his sixty
years of life his feelings had never been so outraged. His cap was still
in his hand, and, with a helpless gesture, he put it on and scattered his
floral offering in the road. Then he made a bee-line for the Two
Schooners.

Though convivial by nature and ever free with his money, he sat there
drinking alone in silent misery. Men came and went, but he still sat
there noting with mournful pride the attention caused by his unusual
bearing. To casual inquiries he shook his head; to more direct ones he
only sighed heavily and applied himself to his liquor. Curiosity
increased with numbers as the day wore on, and the steward, determined to
be miserable, fought manfully against an ever-increasing cheerfulness due
to the warming properties of the ale within.

"I 'ope you ain't lost nobody, Sam?" said a discomfited inquirer at last.

Mr. Wilks shook his head.

"You look as though you'd lost a shilling and found a ha'penny," pursued