'Silence, sir!' returned his father, 'what do you mean by talking, when
you see people that are more than two or three times your age, sitting
still and silent and not dreaming of saying a word?'

'Why that's the proper time for me to talk, isn't it?' said Joe
rebelliously.

'The proper time, sir!' retorted his father, 'the proper time's no
time.'

'Ah to be sure!' muttered Parkes, nodding gravely to the other two who
nodded likewise, observing under their breaths that that was the point.

'The proper time's no time, sir,' repeated John Willet; 'when I was
your age I never talked, I never wanted to talk. I listened and improved
myself that's what I did.'

'And you'd find your father rather a tough customer in argeyment, Joe,
if anybody was to try and tackle him,' said Parkes.

'For the matter o' that, Phil!' observed Mr Willet, blowing a long,
thin, spiral cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, and staring
at it abstractedly as it floated away; 'For the matter o' that, Phil,
argeyment is a gift of Natur. If Natur has gifted a man with powers
of argeyment, a man has a right to make the best of 'em, and has not
a right to stand on false delicacy, and deny that he is so gifted; for
that is a turning of his back on Natur, a flouting of her, a slighting
of her precious caskets, and a proving of one's self to be a swine that
isn't worth her scattering pearls before.'