"He only wants a pitcher of home-brewed," declared Ruth. "I'll fetch it when I've got my things off and put our shawls over th' winter-hedge in front o' th' kitchen fire. I declare they're sopping. But you mustn't say 'sweat,' Jim. How often have I to tell you? Only horses sweat. You don't sweat, you perspire." "Oh! don't aw though?" said Jim. "Weel, aw thowt aw did; but mebbe you're reet an' aw only pusspire. But, onny road, sin' yo're so pressin', aw don't mind a thimbleful or so." "A thimbleful," laughed Ruth, as she left the room to fetch the jug. "As well try to water a ten acre field with a squirt. I never did see the likes of you for home-brewed. It's well you've got no brains to addle, or addled they'd have been long since." "Did you ever hear the like?" asked Jim of no one in particular. "It's th' only weakness aw'n getten, an' it seems to me aw'm nivver to hear th' last on it." And he sighed resignedly. Meanwhile my father had fetched the heavy kist entrusted to me by Mr. Garside from under his bed-head, which he had deemed the safest place to keep it. He placed it solemnly in the centre of the table, as solemnly unlocked it, and poured its glittering contents out in a golden shower. As I have said, there were a trinket or two besides the yellow coins, and, while Jim and I stared at the growing pile and grabbed the guineas to prevent them rolling on to the floor, Miriam and Ruth paid just no heed to the precious coins, but pounced with little cries of delight upon the gemmed brooches and rings, with happy cries of "Oh, isn't it sweet? Look at this, darling, and at this," and so on. And Miriam picked up a brooch that glistened and sparkled by the light of the lamp, and drew Ruth to a long looking-glass that hung on the wall, and pinned it on her frock, and kissed and hugged her, then kissed and hugged her again, and told her it suited her so it must have been made on purpose for her. Then when we'd all quieted down a bit, my father explained at length to Miriam that all this was her very own, and asked what she was minded to do with it. "Weel, aw mun be goin'!" Jim began, before Miriam could find words to answer my father. "It's gettin' latish, n', aw've a tidy step. Why, guise hang me, if it isn't goin' on for ten o' clock." "Better stop all night, Jim," pressed my father. "It's a rough night and a dark. You must sleep with Abe and lose a quarter to-morrow." "Thi arm's noan smittlin', is it, Abe? All reet, then, aw'll stop, an' thank ye; but aw thowt happen yo'd like to talk this fortin' job ovver among yersen." "Such nonsense," said Ruth. "What shall I do with it?" asked Miriam. "What shall I do with it? Why, what should I do with it but leave it where it is. Keep it, Mr. Holmes, keep it and use it as you think best. I've no use for it. I don't want it. I won't have it. Buy yourself a new top-coat with it. You _do_ want a new top-coat--doesn't he, Ruth?"