“Ay, ay, thou's right, boy,--it is a long while. I've seen more than I shall ever see again, and done more than I shall ever do again.” Mr. Palethorpe, who sat in the home-made easy-chair, while the old man occupied a fourlegged stool, burst into a laugh. “You 're right there, George,” he retorted. “Though you never did much since I knowed you, you 'll take right good care you 'll not do as much again. Drat your idle old carcase! you don't earn half the bread you 're eating.” The old man looked up,--not angry, nor yet seeking for pity. “Well, perhaps not; but it is none the sweeter for that, I can assure you. If I can't work as I did once, it's no fault of mine. We can get no more out of a nut than its kernel; and there's nought much but the shell left of me now.” “Yes, yes,” returned Palethorpe, “you don't like it, George, and you'll not do it. Dang your good-for-nothing old limbs! you 'll come to the work'us at last, I know you will!” “Nay, I hope not,” observed the old man, somewhat sorrowfully. “As I've lived out so long, I still hope, with God's blessing on my hands, though they can't do much, to manage to die out.” “Come, then,” said Palethorpe, pushing a pair of hard clay-plastered quarter-boots from off his feet, “stir your lazy bones, and clean my boots once more before you put on th' parish livery.” The old man was accustomed to be thus insulted, and, because he dared not reply, to take insult in silence. He laid down the remaining portion of his bread and cheese, with the remark that he would finish it when he had cleaned the boots, and was about rising from his seat to step across the hearth to pick them up, as they lay tossed at random on the floor, when young Colin, whose heart had been almost bursting during this brief scene, put his hand upon the poor old creature's knee to stop him, and, at the same time starting to his own feet instead, exclaimed, “No, no!--It's a shame for such an old man as you.--Sit still, and I 'll do 'em.” “You shan't though, you whelp!” exclaimed Palethorpe, in great wrath, at the same time kicking out his right foot in order to prevent Colin from picking them up. The blow caught him in the face, and a gush of blood fell upon the hearthstone. “I will, I tell you!” replied Colin vehemently, as he strove to wipe away the blood with his sleeve, and burst into tears. “I'm d----d if you do!” said Palethorpe, rising from his chair with fixed determination. “I 'll soon put you to rights, young busybody.” So saying, he laid a heavy grip with each iron hand on Colics shoulders. “Then if I don't, _he_ shan't!” sobbed Colin. “Shan't he?” said Palethorpe, swallowing the oath which was upon his lips, as though he felt that the object of it was beneath his contempt. “I 'll tell you what, young imp, if you don't march off to bed this minute, I 'll just take and rough-wash you in the horse-pond.” Miss Sowersoft smiled with satisfaction, both at Mr. Palethorpe's wit and at his display of valour.