Felix spoke loudly and brusquely when the minister mentioned the subject
of Mrs. Holt's visit.

"As to those absurd medicines and gulling advertisements that my mother
has been talking of to you, I've no more doubt about _them_ than I have
about pocket-picking. If I allowed the sale of those medicines to go on,
and my mother to live out of the proceeds when I can keep her by the
honest labour of hands, I've not the least doubt that I should be a
rascal."

"I would fain inquire more particularly into your objection to these
medicines," said Mr. Lyon gravely.

"My father was ignorant," said Felix, bluntly. "I know something about
these things. I was 'prentice for five miserable years to a stupid brute
of a country apothecary--my poor father left money for that--he thought
nothing could be finer for me. No matter: I know that the Cathartic
Pills may be as bad as poison to half the people who swallow them, and
that the cancer cure might as well be bottled ditch-water. I can keep my
mother, as well, nay, better, than she keeps herself. With my watch and
clock cleaning, and teaching one or two little chaps that I've got to
come to me, I can earn enough."

Mr. Lyon's suggestion that some situation might be obtained as clerk or
assistant was brushed aside.

"Why should I want to get into the middle class because I have some
learning? The most of the middle class are as ignorant as the working
people about everything that doesn't belong to their own Brummagem
life."