Bless her old soul!" "You ought to keep your money where she can't find it," suggested Jack.
"'Tain't no concern of yourn where I keep my brass.

Oh, my eye, there's a nob!" cried he, suddenly perceiving Hawkesbury, who all this time had been looking on and listening in bewilderment.

"Shin'e boots next, cap'n?
Oh my, ain't he a topper ?" This last appeal was made to Jack, whose boots were now clean, and who, of course, did not reply.
"Who's your friend ?" said Hawkesbury to him, with a smile.
"My friend's a shoeblack," drily replied Smith.
"All, a curious little fellow.

Well, as I dare say you've plenty to say to one another, I'll be going.

Good-bye," and he shook hands with us both and departed.
That evening Jack and I had a long and painful discussion about Hawkesbury.