It's not decent; it's not honest; it's not even kind.' 'But suppose,' objected John, who was considerably impressed by his brother's vehemence, 'suppose that Uncle Masterman is alive after all, and lives ten years longer; must I rot here all that time ?' 'Of course not,' responded Morris, in a more conciliatory tone; 'I only ask a month at the outside; and if Uncle Masterman is not dead by that time you can go abroad.' 'Go abroad ?' repeated John eagerly.

'Why shouldn't I go at once?
Tell 'em that Joseph and I are seeing life in Paris.' 'Nonsense,' said Morris.
'Well, but look here,' said John; 'it's this house, it's such a pig-sty, it's so dreary and damp.

You said yourself that it was damp.' 'Only to the carpenter,' Morris distinguished, 'and that was to reduce the rent.

But really, you know, now we're in it, I've seen worse.' 'And what am I to do ?' complained the victim.

'How can I entertain a friend ?' 'My dear Johnny, if you don't think the tontine worth a little trouble, say so, and I'll give the business up.' 'You're dead certain of the figures, I suppose ?' asked John.
'Well'-- with a deep sigh--'send me the Pink Un and all the comic papers regularly.