"I have wished it long, sir, sensible or not sensible. I slaves away my days and have nothing but a pigsty to step into at home, and angry words in it. A nice place for a tired man! I can't afford the public more than three or four nights a-week; not that, always. They're getting corky at the beer-shops, nowadays, and won't give trust. Wednesday this is; Thursday, to-morrow; Friday, next night: three nights, and me without a shelter to put my head in!" "I should like to take you to one to-morrow night," said William. "Will you go with me?" "Where to?" ungraciously asked Cross. "To Robert East's. You know how he and Crouch spend their evenings. There's always something going on there interesting and pleasant." "Crouch and East don't want me." "Yes, they do. They will be only too glad if you, and a few more intelligent men, will join them. Try it, Cross. There's a warm room to sit in, at all events, and nothing to pay." "Ah, it's all very fine for them Easts! We haven't their luck. Look at me! Down in the world." William put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Why should you be down in the world?" "Why should I?" repeated Cross, in surprise. "Because I am," he logically answered. "That is not the reason. The reason is because you do not try to rise in the world." "It's no use trying." "Have you ever tried?" "Why, no! How can I try?" "You wished just now that you were dead. Would it not be better to wish to live?" "Not such a life as mine." "But to wish to live would seem to imply that it must be a better life. And why need your life be so miserable? You gain fair wages; your wife earns money. Altogether I suppose you must have twenty-six or twenty-eight shillings a week----" "But there's no thrift with it," exclaimed Cross. "It melts away somehow. Before the middle of the week comes, it's all gone." "You spend some at the Horned Ram, you know," said William, not in a reproving tone. "She squanders away in rubbish more than that," was Jacob's answer, pointing towards his house, and not giving at all a complimentary stress upon the "she." "And with nothing to show for it in return, either of you. Try another plan, Jacob." "I'd not be backward--if I could see one to try," said he, after a pause. "Be here at half-past eight to-morrow evening, and I will go in with you to East's. If you cannot see any better way, you can spend a pleasant evening. But now, Jacob, let me say a word to you, and do you note it. If you find the evening pass agreeably, go the next evening, and the next; go always. You can't tell all that may arise from it in time. I know of one thing that will." "What's that, sir?" "Why, that instead of wishing yourself dead, you will grow to think life too short, for the good you find in it." He went on his way. Jacob Cross, deprived of the umbrella, stood in the rain as before and looked after him, indulging his reflections.