"Fie, Mr. Caudle, I knew it would come to this. I said it would,
when you joined those precious Skylarks. People being called out of
their beds at all hours of the night, to bail a set of fellows who
are never so happy as when they're leading sober men to destruction.
I should like to know what the neighbours will think of you, with
people from the police knocking at the door at two in the morning?
Don't tell me that the man has been ill-used: he's not the man to be
ill-used. And you must go and bail him! I know the end of that:
he'll run away, and you'll have to pay the money. I should like to
know what's the use of my working and slaving to save a farthing,
when you throw away pounds upon your precious Skylarks. A pretty
cold you'll have to-morrow morning, being called out of your warm bed
this weather; but don't you think I'll nurse you--not I; not a drop
of gruel do you get from me.

"I'm sure you've plenty of ways of spending your money--not throwing
it away upon a set of dissolute peace-breakers. It's all very well
for you to say you haven't thrown away your money, but you will.
He'll be certain to run off; it isn't likely he'll go upon his trial,
and you'll be fixed with the bail. Don't tell me there's no trial in
the matter, because I know there is; it's for something more than
quarrelling with the policeman that he was locked up. People aren't
locked up for that. No, it's for robbery, or something worse,
perhaps.

"And as you have bailed him, people will think you are as bad as he
is. Don't tell me you couldn't help bailing him; you should have
shown yourself a respectable man, and have let him been sent to