“Nay, that willn’t do, Baldwin! Tha’s none going to get out o’ thi responsibilities i’ that fashion. We’re a limited comp’ny o’ three and I brade o’ t’ parsons i’ thinking ’at three heads is better than two. I know there’s such things as figure-heads; but neither thee nor me is ornimental enough for that job. Now just cast thi eye over t’ job, same as if a ’prentice had done it and then speak thi mind.” “There’s no sense i’ this sort o’ play-acting, Maniwel,” said Baldwin; but he bent forward and examined the work carefully. “Tha’s missed a piece o’ t’ underside o’ this bit o’ moulding,” he remarked a moment or two later; “—there’s an inch or so wi’ no polish on’t.” Jagger shot a glance at his father and caught the wink which was intended for him alone. “Well, that licks all!” said Maniwel, when he had assured himself that the criticism was just. “I wouldn’t ha’ liked Mr. Harris to ha’ picked that out, and it’s a good job that eye o’ thine isn’t dimmed Baldwin. Is there aught else, thinks tha?” Baldwin found nothing else and Maniwel picked up the rag again. After a while Baldwin left the shop and Jagger paused in his work. “That was a bit o’ humbug: you left it on purpose for him to find. If his brain hadn’t been softening he’d ha’ known it.” “His brain’s right enough,” Maniwel replied “He never had more than he could make use of, and what he had he didn’t work over hard. If it’s softening, a bit o’ exercise’ll harden it. It’s his self-respect he’s been letting go and I’m wanting him to get it back, or we shall be having him on t’ coffin-board before long.” If Jagger’s thoughts could have been read it would possibly have been found that this prospect afforded him no great dissatisfaction, and it was thus that his father interpreted his silence. “There’s many a twisted bit o’ timber can be put to good use if you’ll study how to fit it in,” he remarked. “A boss ’at’s gifted wi’ gumption’ll see ’at naught’s wasted, and turn t’ rubbish into profit. I’m looking forward to Baldwin being a help to t’ concern.” Jagger smiled and went on with his work, having learned by experience that there was nothing to be gained by disputing his father’s philosophy, but after an interval of silence he again allowed his saw to remain suspended in mid-course. “How much were you saying there is in t’ bank?” he inquired. “Above two hundred pound,” replied Maniwel. “We’ve had a good friend i’ t’ squire, lad; a ready-money friend means a deal to them ’at’s short o’ brass.” “If we’d had a better shop,” said Jagger contemplatively, “we could ha’ put in an engine before so long.” “Aye, aye, but we must be content to creep till we find we can walk. Steady does it, my lad! We’re doing better than like.” Jagger’s saw went on biting into the board, but before long it was allowed to rest again. “What did you send Baldwin home for?” Maniwel came forward and leaned against the bench where he could see his son’s face and watch its expression.