t first I was inclined to resent the
reduction of my individuality to such a vulgar formula, but as I became
inured to hard tasks the sharpness of this indignity wore away.

There was one pair of legs doing service for the firm whose owner became
my most valued friend and confidant. In his business capacity he was
called "long legs," but his proper name was Philbert Chaffin. He was
a tall, slim boy, with blue eyes and light hair, the son of a stage
carpenter, who was employed at one of the cheap theatres and who
lived within a stone's throw of my lodgings. His language was a unique
combination of bad grammar and provincial brogue; but every boy in
the warehouse allowed that he was a good fellow. He had spent many an
evening with me, and confided to me many a secret which, owing to solemn
pledges made at that time, I am not at liberty to divulge, before he
invited me to dine and spend an evening with the family. I accepted his
invitation gratefully, and the next evening Phil took me over. It was a
hearty welcome that I received at the home of the Chaffins. My enjoyment
of their simple hospitality would have been perfect but for the
embarrassment I felt at the many apologies with which it was offered.
Mrs. Chaffin knew as 'ow the tea was not as good as I was used to
drinking, but she 'oped it didn't taste "murky." I assured her that
it did not taste murky, although a little doubtful as to the exact
significance of the word when applied to tea. But in spite of my
declaration she insisted that it must taste "murky" to one who was
accustomed to better things. The ham was never too good in Liverpool,
but she 'oped that it wasn't "reesty." I solemnly declared that it was
not "reesty." But Mrs. Chaffin and Mr. Chaffin out of the goodness of
their hearts continued to condole with me on the score that such ham
tasted and must taste "reesty" to one not used to it. I had no sooner
satisfied their misgivings concerning the ham than I was compelled to
take issue with them as to the bread, regarding which they entertained a
lurking suspicion of staleness. During all of this discussion about the
ham, the tea and the bread, I was conscious that a pair of big brown
eyes, darkly shaded with long lashes, were staring at me across the
table. Whenever I had the courage to glance that way I observed that
they had been looking at me intently, and were suddenly averted. These
wondering eyes belonged to the only daughter in the family.

"They'v