"We were thirteen of us to get out in the world, boys and girls, and our father a clerk on three hundred a year. It seemed a fortune in those days; because a man's children expected to go out and work for themselves. I went out at twelve, boys; my father put me to a fishmonger, and I didn't like it; and he gave me a flogging for caprice, and sent me to a tanner's. I didn't like that—you should have smelt the skins!—but I had to stick to it. And I did stick to it, and in time made a business for myself, and when it got too large I took in my young foreman, Tubbs, and gave him a share. I was a common-councilman, then; and a very grand honour I thought it to be such; but I didn't leave off work. Up early and to bed late, and making my abode amidst the skins in my yard, was I. Fortune came to me, boys; it comes to most people who patiently work for it; and they made me a sheriff of London, and in going up with an address to Court, the Queen knighted me: and that brings me with the handle to my name, which I assure you I'm not at home with yet, and for months afterwards couldn't believe that it was me being spoken to. I retired from business then, and I bought Pond Place up here. I didn't buy it because it was near the college, and that Dr. Orville had been a sixteenth cousin, but because it suited me; and the situation and the air suited me. And that's how _I_ come to be Sir Simon Orville: and what I've got I've humbly worked for. Mr. Loftus there was born a gentleman, as his father was before him, and he'd like me to go in for rank, and for quarterings on my carriage, and crests on my spoons, and to make believe that I'd never heard there was such a low thing as tanning amidst trades. Yah, boys! I hate pretension: and so does every sincere nature ever created. It's only a species of acted falsehood; it won't help us on the road to heaven." A murmur of applause, and a slight clapping of hands. Sir Simon lifted his stick again. "He despises the Galls, that lofty nephew of mine; he lets you know that he does. Boys, allow me to tell you, that there's not a better man in all London than Joseph Gall, the head of the respectable firm of Gall & Batty. Substantial, too, Mr. Loftus." Loftus stood like a pillar of salt, stony and upright, showing no sign whatever of his intense annoyance. These periodical revelations of Sir Simon's, given gratuitously to the boys on any provocation, were the very thorns of his life. At such moments it would have puzzled Loftus to tell which he despised most—the Galls as a whole, or his uncle as a unit. "And now about this shooting business," resumed Sir Simon. "Where was the pistol fired from?" "Just from this point, Sir Simon," spoke Leek, who was one of the greatest admirers Sir Simon possessed. "And here"—running a few paces onward—"is where the earl dropped."