sir, might I ask you to favour me with the date of your birthday?
Your dear father's was the 28th of May." Mr. Sam's stare lost its
blankness, and became one of sharp suspicion.

"What have you to do with my birthday, pray?"

"Nothing, sir--nothing, unless it pleases you. Some of our best and
greatest men, sir, as I am well aware--the late Duke of Wellington, for
instance--have had a distaste for poetry; not that my verses deserve any
such name."

"Oh!" said Mr. Sam, his brow clearing, "you were talking of verses?
I've no objection, so long as you don't ask me to read them." He paused,
as Mr. Benny's face lengthened dejectedly. "I mean no reflection on
yours, Benny."

"I thank you, sir."

"Shakespeare--and I am told you can't get better poetry than
Shakespeare's--doesn't please me at all. I tried him once, on a friend's
recommendation, and came on a passage which I don't hesitate to call
lascivious. I told my friend so, and advised him to be more careful in
the reading he recommended. He was a minister of the gospel, too.
I destroyed the book: one can't be too careful, with children about the
house."

"I assure you, sir--"

"I don't suggest for a moment that you would be guilty of any such
expressions as Shakespeare uses. We live in a different age.
Still, poetry, as such, gives me no pleasure. I believe very firmly,
Benny--as you may have gathered--in another world, and that we shall be
held strictly to account there for all we do or say in this one."

"Yes, sir."

"If you will wait a moment, I have a note to write. You will deliver it,
please, to Mrs. Trevarthen on your way home. But first I wish you to walk
up to the school and fetch Master Clem."

Mr. Benny, absorbed in poetical composition, had either failed to hear the
explosion at the gate, or had heard and paid no heed to it. He wondered
why Master Clem should need to be fetched from school.

"And Miss Myra?" he suggested.

"Miss Myra has been sent to her room in disgrace," said Mr. Sam.

Mr. Benny asked no further questions, but pocketed the letter which Mr.
Sam indited, and fetched his hat. As it happened, however, at the gate he
met Hester leading Clem by the hand; and receiving the child from her,
handed him over to Susannah.

"You are going home?" he asked, as he rejoined Hester at the gate.
They were already warm friends.

"I am on my way. And you?"

"We'll cross the ferry together, if you'll wait a moment while I delive