"Nobody to leave it to," continued Mr. Smith. "Seems a bit 'ard, don't
it?"

"P'r'aps if 'e 'ad 'ad somebody to leave it to 'e wouldn't 'ave 'ad so
much to leave," observed Mr. Kybird, sagely; "it's a rum world."

He shook his head over it and went on with the uncongenial task of
marking down wares which had suffered by being exposed outside too long.
Mr. Smith, who always took an interest in the welfare of his friends,
made suggestions.

"I shouldn't put a ticket marked 'Look at this!' on that coat," he said,
severely. "It oughtn't to be looked at."

"It's the best out o' three all 'anging together," said Mr. Kybird,
evenly.

"And look 'ere," said Mr. Smith. "Look what an out-o'-the-way place
you've put this ticket. Why not put it higher up on the coat?"

"Becos the moth-hole ain't there," said Mr. Kybird.

Mr. Smith apologized and watched his friend without further criticism.

"Gettin' ready for the wedding, I s'pose?" he said, presently.

Mr. Kybird assented, and his brow darkened as he spoke of surreptitious
raids on his stores made by Mrs. Kybird and daughter.

"Their idea of a wedding," he said, bitterly, "is to dress up and make a