There was a very sensible man there that evening that George liked very
much. His name was Uncle Joe, and when Gerty was praising George to 'is
face for the money he 'ad been spending, Uncle Joe, instead o' looking
pleased, shook his 'ead over it.

"Young people will be young people, I know," he ses, "but still I don't
approve of extravagance. Bob Evans would never 'ave spent all that money
over you."

"Bob Evans ain't everybody," ses Mrs. Mitchell, standing up for Gerty.

"He was steady, anyway," ses Uncle Joe. "Besides, Gerty ought not to ha'
let Mr. Crofts spend his money like that. She could ha' prevented it if
she'd ha' put 'er foot down and insisted on it."

He was so solemn about it that everybody began to feel a bit upset, and
Gerty borrowed Ted's pocket-'andkerchief, and then wiped 'er eyes on the
cuff of her dress instead.

"Well, well," ses Uncle Joe; "I didn't mean to be 'ard, but don't do it
no more. You are young people, and can't afford it."

"We must 'ave a little pleasure sometimes," ses Gerty.

"Yes, I know," ses Uncle Joe; "but there's moderation in everything.
Look 'ere, it's time somebody paid for Mr. Crofts. To-morrow's Saturday,
and, if you like, I'll take you all to the Crystal Palace."

Gerty jumped up off of 'er chair and kissed 'im, while Mrs. Mitchell said
she knew 'is bark was worse than 'is bite, and asked 'im who was wasting