and the little man were talking together. The man had taken him
under the chin and twisted his face up. "Is that the nipper?" he had
asked.

His mother had nodded, and, releasing Paul with a clumsy gesture of
simulated affection, had sent him with twopence for a pint of beer
to the public-house at the end of the street. He recalled how the
man had winked his little bright eye at his mother before putting
the jug to his lips.

"I browt th' beer for yo'," said Paul.

"You did. It was the worst beer, bar none, I've ever had. I can
taste it now." He made a wry face. Then he cocked his head on one
side. "I suppose you're wondering who I am?" said he.

"Ay," said Paul. "Who art tha?"

"I'm Barney Bill," replied the man. "Did you never hear of me? I'm
known on the road from Taunton to Newcastle and from Hereford to
Lowestoft. You can tell yer mother that you seed me."

A smile curled round Paul's lips at the comic idea of giving his
mother unsolicited information. "Barney Bill?" said he.

"Yuss," said the man. Then, after a pause, "What are you doing of
there?"

"Reading," said Paul.