"Micky's an owdacious young varmint," said Uncle Mo. "Small boys that listened to owdacious young varmints never used to come to much good, not in _my_ time!" Dave looked shocked at Uncle Mo's experience. But he had reservations to offer as to Micky, which distinguished him from vulgar listeners to incantations. "Micky said not to, and Micky said Uncle Mo didn't want to hear tell of no Man out in Hoy' Park, and me to keep my mouth shut till I was tolded to speak." "And you told him to speak, and he spoke!" said Mr. Jerry, charitably helping Dave. "You couldn't expect any fairer than that, old Mo." Public opinion sanctioned a concession in this sense, and Dave came off the stool of repentance. "Very good, then!" said Uncle Mo. "That's all squared, and we can cross it off. But what I'm trying after is, how did this here ... bad-languagee"--he halted a minute to make this word--"come to know anything about Goody Prichard upstairs?" "Did he?" said Mr. Jerry, who of course had only heard Dave on the subject. "This young party said so," said Uncle Mo, crumpling Dolly to identify her, "at the very first go off. Didn't you, little ginger-pop, hay?" This new epithet was a passing recognition of the suddenness with which Dolly had broken out as an informant. It gratified her vanity, and made her chuckle. Dave meanwhile had been gathering for an oratorical effort, and now culminated. "I never told Dolly nuffint _about_ Mrs. Picture upstairs. What _I_ said was 'old widder lady.'" "Dolly translated it, Mo, don't you see?" said Mr. Jerry. Then, to illuminate possible obscurity, he added:--"Off o' one slate onto the other! Twig?" "I twig you, Jerry." Uncle Mo winked at his friend to show that he was alive to surroundings and tickled Dave suddenly from a motive of policy. "How come this cove to know anything about any widder lady--hay? That's a sort of p'int we've got to consider of." Dave was impressed by his uncle's appearance of profound thought, and was anxious not to lag behind in the solution of stiff problems. He threw his whole soul into his answer. "Because he was _The Man_." Nathan the prophet can scarcely have been more impressive. Perhaps, on the occasion Dave's answer recalls, someone said:--"Hullo!" in Hebrew, and gave a short whistle. That was what Mr. Jerry did, this time. Uncle Mo enjoined self-restraint, telegraphically; and said, verbally:--"What man, young Legs? Steady a minute, and tell us who he was." Which will be quite intelligible to anyone whose experience has included a small boy in thick boots sitting on his knee, and becoming excited by a current topic.