Tinman had been accustomed in his shop at Helmstone--where heaven had blessed him with the patronage of the rich, as visibly as rays of supernal light are seen selecting from above the heads of prophets in the illustrations to cheap holy books--to deal with willing workers that have no hearts. Before the application for an advance of wages--and he knew the signs of it coming--his method was to calculate how much he might be asked for, and divide the estimated sum by the figure 4; which, as it seemed to come from a generous impulse, and had been unsolicited, was often humbly accepted, and the willing worker pursued her lean and hungry course in his service. The treatment did not always agree with his males. Women it suited; because they do not like to lift up their voices unless they are in a passion; and if you take from them the grounds of temper, you take their words away--you make chickens of them. And as Tinman said, “Gratitude I never expect!” Why not? For the reason that he knew human nature. He could record shocking instances of the ingratitude of human nature, as revealed to him in the term of his tenure of the shop at Helmstone. Blest from above, human nature’s wickedness had from below too frequently besulphured and suffumigated him for his memory to be dim; and though he was ever ready to own himself an example that heaven prevaileth, he could cite instances of scandal-mongering shop-women dismissed and working him mischief in the town, which pointed to him in person for a proof that the Powers of Good and Evil were still engaged in unhappy contention. Witness Strikes! witness Revolutions! “Tell her, when she lays the cloth, that I advance her, on account of general good conduct, five shillings per annum. Add,” said Tinman, “that I wish no thanks. It is for her merits--to reward her; you understand me, Martha?” “Quite; if you think it prudent, Martin.” “I do. She is not to breathe a syllable to cook.” “She will.” “Then keep your eye on cook.” Mrs. Cavely promised she would do so. She felt sure she was paying five shillings for ingratitude; and, therefore, it was with humility that she owned her error when, while her brother sipped his sugared acrid liquor after dinner (in devotion to the doctor’s decree, that he should take a couple of glasses, rigorously as body-lashing friar), she imparted to him the singular effect of the advance of wages upon little Jane--“Oh, ma’am! and me never asked you for it!” She informed her brother how little Jane had confided to her that they were called “close,” and how little Jane had vowed she would--the willing little thing!--go about letting everybody know their kindness. “Yes! Ah!” Tinman inhaled the praise. “No, no; I don’t want to be puffed,” he said. “Remember cook. I have,” he continued, meditatively, “rarely found my plan fail. But mind, I give the Crickledons notice to quit to-morrow. They are a pest. Besides, I shall probably think of erecting villas.”