The Corporal turned to Melia with an air of discreet triumph. But Melia was so drowsy that she said she would go into the arbor until the tea came. She was encouraged to do so while the landlord went on, "I was a bit of a favorite with old Soft Jack. Many's the boy I've lammoxed for throwing stones at his easel. Of course, at the time I speak of, the old chap had got a bit tottery; he lived to be tight on ninety. But as I say nobody thought much of him, yet if you'll believe me it's only last year, or the year before last--I'm getting on myself--that a college gentleman came down here to write a book about him. A very nice civil-spoken gentleman; but fancy writing a book about old Soft Jack!" "Ever buy any of his pictures?" "My father did. Gave as much as five pounds for one, more out of charity than anything, I've heard him say, but if you'll believe me when the old boy was dead my father sold that picture for twenty pounds, and they tell me--I've not seen it myself--that that picture is now in our Art Gallery, and the college gentleman I'm speaking of--I forget his name--says folk come from all parts of the world to look at it." "Happen there was the sun in it," said the Corporal. "Very like. Most of his pictures had the sun in 'em, what I remember. You know they do say that that old chap could look at the sun with the naked eye. And such an eye as it was--like an eagle's, even when he was old and past it." "Got any of his pictures now?" "Can't say I have. My father had one or two odd bits, but he sold 'em or gave 'em away. No good having a picture, I've heard the dad say, unless you've a frame to put it in. And frames was dear in those days. If you'll believe me, the frame often cost more than the picture." "Pity you haven't one or two by you now. They do say all Torrington's pictures are worth a sight o' money." "Shouldn't wonder. Money's more plentiful now than it used to be. My father was 'mazed when he got twenty pounds for the one he sold, and he heard afterwards it fetched as high as fifty. But I'm speaking, of course, of when the old man was dead. That reminds me, the old chap, being very hard up, painted our signboard. It wants a fresh coat now, but it's wonderful how it's lasted." The Corporal, in his devotion to art, ceased to pick raspberries, and accompanied by his host, went to look at the expression of Soft Jack's genius upon the ancient front of the Corfield Arms. As they crossed the bowling green they came upon the smiling and gracious Polly, who bore a tea tray heavily laden. "Lady's in the summerhouse." The gallant Corporal returned smile for smile. "Tell her to pour out the tea and I'll be along in a jiffy."