At such times Sim would pull off his boots with some difficulty, for he had the peculiarity of being perfectly sober as far as his waist, while his legs would be in such a disgraceful state of intoxication that he did not reach home without their throwing the upper part of his body several times on the ground. The boots being removed, Sim would sit before the fire talking to himself, and working his toes about in his coarse knitted stockings. "Why can't you put on your slippers, Sim?" Mrs Sim would say. "I wean't," he'd answer. "I'm not going to be ordered about by a woman. I'm a man." "You're a nasty drunken pig," exclaimed Mrs Slee. "What!" he would say indignantly, "drunk! Heven't had a glass. I never have a bit o' peace o' my life. Tant-tant-tant all day long, driving me away from home. Ugh, you know nowt but nastiness. You always weer nasty. Go to bed." Volume 2, Chapter XVIII. SIM SLEE'S PATRIOTISM. Then Mrs Slee would tighten up her lips, look as if she would like to box her lord's ears, and end sometimes by doing it, Sim appealing to "Moother" for mercy till she went upstairs, when Sim would get up from the floor, where he had thrown himself, and rub his ears till they ceased tingling, and end by winking to himself and performing the strange movements alluded to in the previous chapter. At these times, in spite of the very liberal quantity of ale indulged in at his own and other people's expense, Sim's head would be perfectly clear; and knowing, from old experience, that as soon as he had lain down and gone fast asleep, Mrs Slee would get up and empty his pockets, he would proceed to conceal his money. Half-crowns were placed up the chimney, a half-sovereign on the ledge over a door, shillings in corners not likely to be swept, under chimney ornaments, and on the tops of picture frames, his great hoard at this time being under an old scrubby geranium, growing--or rather existing, for it had long ceased to grow-- in a pot in the window--a favourite plant of Mrs Slee's, as she had kept it through the winter for years. So matted together were its roots, that if the stem were taken in the hand the whole of the earth came out quite clean in its basket of fibres, and beneath this, in the bottom of the pot, Sim had placed five golden sovereigns, nicely arranged round the hole, on the night after the riot, the geranium being replaced, and all looking as before. The next morning Mrs Slee was up a long while the first, as usual, and as was her custom when Sim had been bad over night, she made a tour of the place, finding and gleaning up coins of various value, wondering the while where Sim obtained the money that she transferred to her ample pocket, hidden by drapery and folds at a great depth from the surface. Just as she was finishing, she caught sight of the pot, and saw that it had been removed over night, for the water that had drained into the earthen saucer had, when the pot was moved, dripped on the floor.