"Because your brother does wrong, 'tis no business of yours to right the wrong," answered Mrs. Hacker. "Besides, 'tis well known that charity begins at home." "And stops there," suggested Gollop. "No doubt at Hawk House, you and him be as snug as beetles in the tree bark, while other people don't know where to turn for a roof to cover 'em." "They'd have poor speed if they was to turn to you, anyway," she said. "'Tis like your round-eyed, silly impudence to speak like that of a better man than ever you was or will be, or know how to be. He ban't bound to tell you where he spends his money, I believe; and if you was half as good a man--but there, what can you expect from a Gollop but a grunt? You'm a poor generation, you and your sister--God knows which is the worse." "Bravo, Susan! Have another drop along o' me," cried Heathman Lintern, and she agreed to do so. "What do you know and what don't you know?" asked Head presently. "Be your old party going to do anything or nothing?" "I don't know. But this I do know, that all your wild tales down here about his money be silly lies. We live hard enough, I can promise that, whatever you may think. If every man here spent his money so wise as Humphrey Baskerville, you wouldn't all be boozing in this bar now, but along with your lawful wives and families, helping the poor women to find a bit of pleasure in life. But I know you; you get a shipload of brats and leave their mothers to do all the horrid work of 'em, while you come in here every night like lords, and soak and twaddle and waste your money and put the world right, then go home not fit company for a dog----" "Steady on--no preaching here--rule of the bar," said Mr. Voysey. "You think we're all blanks because you drew a blank, Susan. Yes, a blank you drew, though you might have had me in the early forties." "You! I'd make a better man than you with a dozen pea-sticks," retorted Susan. "And I didn't draw a blank, I drawed Hacker, who'd be here now teaching you chaps to drink, if the Lord had spared him. You can't even drink now--so feeble have you growed. Hacker, with all his faults, was a fine man; and so's Humphrey Baskerville in his way." "Talk on; but talk to the purpose, Susan. What have he done? That's the question. You ain't going to tell me he's done nought," suggested Mr. Head. "I ain't going to tell you nothing at all, because I don't know nothing at all. He wouldn't ax me how to spend his money--nor you neither." "Tell us who he's helping--if anybody," persisted the man. "How is it none haven't handed me back my money? You can mention--if you've got the pluck to do it--that I want my bit back so well as t'others; and mine be quite as much to me as Ned Baskerville's thousands was to him." "Charity begins at home," repeated Susan, "and I'll lay you my hat, though the fog's took the feather out of curl, that if he does anything, 'twill be for his own first. He's that sort, I believe."