our minds on the work."

"How long ago, Wickes?"

"Thirty-one years, sir, come next Michaelmas. And glad I was to get the
job, too. You see, sir, I had just come to the country, and with the
missus and a couple of kids--"

"Thirty-one years! Great Caesar! And you've worked at this desk for
thirty-one years! And what have you got out of it?"

"Well, sir, not what you might call a terrible lot. I hadn't the
eddication for much, as you might say--but--well, there's my little
home, and we've lived happy there, the missus and me, and the kids--at
least, till the war came." The old man paused abruptly.

"You're right, Wickes, by Jove," exclaimed Jack, starting from his seat
and gripping the old man's hand. "You have made a lot out of it--and you
gave as fine a boy as ever stepped in uniform to your country. We were
all proud of Stephen, every man of us."

"I know that, sir, and he often wrote the wife about you, sir, which we
don't forget, sir. Of course, it's hard on her and the boys--just coming
up to be somethin' at the school."

"By the way, Wickes, how are they doing? Two of them, aren't there?
Let's see--there's Steve, he's the eldest--"

"No, sir, he's the youngest, sir. Robert is the eldest--fourteen, and
quite clever at his books. Pity he's got to quit just now."