n--'"

"Why, Old Un!" exclaimed Ravenslee, "that's a very remarkable verse!"

"My land!" ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, squaring her elbows in the doorway,
"I suspects he's a poet--an' him sech a nice little old gentleman!"

"A poet, ma'am!" exclaimed the Old Un indignantly, "not me, ma'am, not
me--should scorn t' be. I'm a 'ighly respected old fightin' man, I am,
as never went on th' cross:

"'A fightin' man I, ma'am,
An' wish I may die, ma'am,
If ever my backers I crossed;
An' what's better still, ma'am,
Though I forgot many a mill, ma'am,
Not one of 'em ever I lost.'"

"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes again. "What a memory!"

"Memory, ma'am!" growled Joe, "that ain't memory; 'e makes 'em up as 'e
goes along--"

"Joe," said the Old Un, glaring, "if the lady weren't here, an' axin'
'er pardon--I'd punch you in the perishin' eye-'ole for that!"

"All right, old vindictiveness," sighed Joe, "an' now, if you'll let go
of Spider Connolly's fist, I'd like to say 'ow do. Sit down an' give
some one else a chance to speak--sit down, you old bag o' wind--"

"Bag o'--" the old man dropped the Spider's nerveless hand to turn to
Mrs. Trapes with a gloomy brow. "You 'eard that, ma'am--you 'eard this
perishin' porker call me a bag o'--Joe, I blush for ye! Ma'am, pore Joe
means well, but 'e can't 'elp bein' a perisher--but"--and here the Old
Un raised and shook a feeble old fist--"I've a good mind t' ketch 'im
one as would put 'im t' sleep for a fortnight--I've a good mind--"

But Mrs. Trapes caught that tremulous fist and drawing the Old Un's arm
through her own, turned to the door.

"You come along with me," said she, "you shall help me t' get the tea;
you shall carry in th' cake an'--"

"Cake!" exclaimed the Old Un, "Oh, j'yful word, ma'am; you're a--a
lidy! An' there's jam, ain't there?"

"Strawberry!"

"Straw--oh, music t' me ears, ma'am--you're a nymp'--lead me to it!" So
saying, the Old Un followed Mrs. Trapes out into the kitchen, while the
Spider stared after him open-mouthed.

"Sufferin' Pete!" he murmured, then, inhaling a long, deep breath,
turned to grasp Joe's mighty, outstretched hand. Then, drawing their
chairs together, they sat down, and Ravenslee, by an adroit question
or two, soon had them talking, the Spider quick and eager and chewing
voraciously, Joe soft-voiced and deliberate but speaking with that calm
air of finality that comes only of long and varied experience. So, while
Ravenslee smoked