new clothes sometimes, I s'pose?" he said, slowly. "You wouldn't 'ave'em
going about of a Sunday in a ragged shirt and a pair of trowsis, would
you?"

The shaft passed harmlessly. "Why not?" said the other. "They gin'rally
do."

Mr. Vickers's denial died away on his lips. In twos and threes his
neighbours had drawn gradually near and now stood by listening
expectantly. The idea of a fortune was common to all of them, and
they were anxious for particulars.

[Illustration: "They were anxious for particulars."]

"Some people have all the luck," said a stout matron. "I've 'ad thirteen
and buried seven, and never 'ad so much as a chiney tea-pot left me. One
thing is, I never could make up to people for the sake of what I could
get out of them. I couldn't not if I tried. I must speak my mind free
and independent."

"Ah! that's how you get yourself disliked," said another lady, shaking
her head sympathetically.

"Disliked?" said the stout matron, turning on her fiercely. "What d'ye
mean? You don't know what you're talking about. Who's getting
themselves disliked?"

"A lot o' good a chiney tea-pot would be to you," said the other, with a
ready change of front, "or any other kind o' tea-pot."