“It was more like a story-book than a letter. George’s mate, John Biggs by name, wrote to say that an uncle of his who had just died, on ’is deathbed told him that thirty years ago he ’ad been in this very village, staying at this ’ere very Cauliflower, whose beer we’re drinking now. In the night, when everybody was asleep, he got up and went quiet-like and buried a bag of five hundred and seventeen sovereigns and one half-sovereign in one of the cottage gardens till ’e could come for it agin. He didn’t say ’ow he come by the money, and, when Bill spoke about that, George English said that, knowing the man, he was afraid ’e ’adn’t come by it honest, but anyway his friend John Biggs wanted it, and, wot was more, ’ad asked ’im in the letter to get it for ’im. “‘And wot I’m to do about it, Bill,’ he ses, I don’t know. All the directions he gives is, that ’e thinks it was the tenth cottage on the right-’and side of the road, coming down from the Cauliflower. He thinks it’s the tenth, but ’e’s not quite sure. Do you think I’d better make it known and offer a reward of ten shillings, say, to any one who finds it?’ “‘No,’ ses Bill, shaking ’is ’ead. ‘I should hold on a bit if I was you, and think it over. I shouldn’t tell another single soul, if I was you.’ “‘I be’lieve you’re right,’ ses George. ‘John Biggs would never forgive me if I lost that money for ’im. You’ll remember about keeping it secret, Bill?’ “Bill swore he wouldn’t tell a soul, and ’e went off ’ome and ’ad his supper, and then ’e walked up the road to the Cauliflower and back, and then up and back again, thinking over what George ’ad been telling ’im, and noticing, what ’e’d never taken the trouble to notice before, that ’is very house was the tenth one from the Cauliflower. “Mrs. Chambers woke up at two o’clock next morning and told Bill to get up further, and then found ’e wasn’t there. She was rather surprised at first, but she didn’t think much of it, and thought, what happened to be true, that ’e was busy in the garden, it being a light night. She turned over and went to sleep again, and at five when she woke up she could distinctly ’ear Bill working ’is ’ardest. Then she went to the winder and nearly dropped as she saw Bill in his shirt and trousers digging away like mad. A quarter of the garden was all dug up, and she shoved open the winder and screamed out to know what ’e was doing. “Bill stood up straight and wiped ’is face with his shirt-sleeve and started digging again, and then his wife just put something on and rushed downstairs as fast as she could go. “‘What on earth are you a-doing of, Bill?’ she screams. “‘Go indoors,’ ses Bill, still digging. “‘Have you gone mad?’ she ses, half-crying. “Bill just stopped to throw a lump of mould at her, and then went on digging till Henery Walker, who also thought ’e ’ad gone mad, and didn’t want to stop ’im too soon, put ’is ’ead over the ’edge and asked ’im the same thing.