I reckoned that on the matter o' holdin' property and passin' in money it would be better to hev your name put on the square, and to sorter go down to bed rock for it, eh?
If I wanted to take a hand in them lots or Ditch shares, for instance--it would be only law to hev it made out in the name o' d'Aubigny." Mr.Ford listened with certain impatient contempt.

It was bad enough for Uncle Ben to have exposed his weakness in inventing fictions about his early education, but to invest himself now with a contingency of capital for the sake of another childish vanity, was pitiable as it was preposterous.

There was no doubt that he had lied about his school experiences; it was barely probable that his name was really d'Aubigny, and it was quite consistent with all this--even setting apart the fact that he was perfectly well known to be only a poor miner--that he should lie again.

Like most logical reasoners Mr.Ford forgot that humanity might be illogical and inconsistent without being insincere.

He turned away without speaking as if indicating a wish to hear no more.
"Some o' these days," said Uncle Ben, with dull persistency, "I'll tell ye suthen'." "I'd advise you just now to drop it and stick to your lessons," said the master sharply.
"That's so," said Uncle Ben hurriedly, hiding himself as it were in an all-encompassing blush.