The old nobleman turned to face him with pretended anger. “You are impertinent, Joseph.” “It caw't be done, my lord,” his assistant mumbled, thrusting his head through a space in the ladder. “Times are hard, Joseph,” returned his lordship. There had been a discernible touch of banter in his voice and manner when he had rebuked Joseph a second or two before, but he was very serious now indeed. “Times are hard; expenses must be cut down. I can't afford more. Sixpence a day is three shillings a week, and three shillings a week is one hundred and fifty-six shillings a year--seven pounds sixteen. That is interest at three per cent, on a sum of two hundred and fifty-nine pounds ten shillings. That is a great amount to lie waste. While I pay you sixpence a day I am practically two hundred and fifty-nine pounds ten shillings poorer than I should be if I kept the sixpence a day to myself. I might just as well not have the money--it is of no use to me.” “Gi'e it to me, then,” suggested Joseph, with a feeble gleam. “Sixpence a day,” said his lordship, “is really a great waste of money.” “It's cruel hard o' me,” returned Joseph, betraying a sudden inclination to whimper. “If I was a lord I'd be a lord, I would.” “Joseph! Joseph! Joseph!” cried his lordship, sharply. “It's cruel hard,” said Joseph, whimpering outright. “I'd be a man _or_ a mouse, if I was thee.” “I shall be generous,” said the aged nobleman, relenting. “I shall give you a suit of clothes. I shall give you a pair of trousers and a waistcoat--a laced waistcoat--and a coat.” Joseph laughed again, but clouded a moment later. “Theer's them as pets the back to humble the belly, and theer's them as pets the belly to humble the back,” he said, rubbing his bristly chin on a rung of the ladder as he spoke. “What soort o' comfort is theer in a laced wescut, if a man's got nothing to stretch it out with?” “Well, well, Joseph,” returned the earl, “sixpence a day is a great deal of money. In these hard times I can't afford more.” “What I look at,” said Joseph, “is, it robs me of my bit o' bacon. If I was t'ask annybody in Heydon Hay, 'Is Lord Barfield the man to rob a poor chap of his bit o' bacon?' they'd say, 'No.' That's what they'd say. 'No,' they'd say; 'niver dream of a such-like thing as happening Joseph.'” His lordship fidgeted and took snuff. “What his lordship 'ud be a deal likelier to do,” pursued Joseph, declaiming, in imitation of his supposed interlocutor, with his head through the ladder, and waving the billhook and the saw gently in either hand, “'ud be to say as a poor chap as wanted it might goo up to the Hall kitchen and have a bite--that's what annybody 'ud say in Hey don Hay as happened to be inquired of.” Joseph's glance dwelt lingeringly and wistfully on his lordship's face as he watched for the effect of his speech. The old earl took snuff with extreme deliberateness.