p--a trio--he could not well pass without
salutation. They were Mr Rogers (in his bath-chair and wicked as
ever) and Mr Philp, with Fancy Tabb in attendance as usual.

"Well, I hope you're satisfied this time?" Mr Rogers was saying.

"I suppose I must be," Mr Philp was grumbling in answer. "But all I can
say is, coals burn faster than they used."

"It's the way with best Newcastle." Mr Rogers, who had never sold a ton
of Newcastle coal in his life (let alone the best), gave his cheerful
assurance without winking an eye.

"So you've told me more'n once," retorted Mr Philp. "I never made a
study o' trade rowts, as they're called; but more'n once, too, it's been
in my mind to ask ye how Newcastle folk come to ship their coal to Troy
by way o' Runcorn."

Mr Rogers blinked knowledgeably. "It shortens the distance," he
replied, "by a lot. But you was sayin' as coals burned faster. Well,
they do, and what's the reason?"

"Ah!" said Mr Philp. "That's what I'd like to know."

"Well, I'll give 'ee the information, and nothin' to pay. Coals burn
faster as a man burns slower. You're gettin' on in life; an' next time
you draw your knees higher the grate you can tell yourself _that_,
William Philp. . . . Hullo! there's Cap'n Hunken! . . . Mornin', Cap'n.
That's a fine bird you're carryin'."

"A parrot, by the looks of it," put in Mr Philp.

"Sherlock 'Omes!" Mr Rogers congratulated him curtly.

"'Mornin', Mr Rogers--mornin', Mr Philp!" 'Bias halted and held out the
cage at half-arm's length. "Yes, 'tis a fine bird I'm told." He eyed
the parrot vindictively.

"Talks?"

"Damn! That's just it."

"What can it say?"

"Dunno. Wish I did. Will ye take the bird for a gift, or would ye
rather have sixpence to wring its neck?"

"Both," suggested Mr Philp with promptitude.

"What yer wrigglin' for like that, at the back o' my chair, you Tabb's
child?" asked Mr Rogers, whose paralysis prevented his turning his head.

"Offer for 'n, master!" whispered Fancy. Mr Rogers, if he heard, made
no sign. "D'ye mean it?" he inquired of 'Bias. "I'm rather partial to
parrots, as it happens: and it's a fine bird. What's the matter with
it?"

"I don't know," 'Bias confessed again. "I wish somebody'd find out: but
they tell me it can't be trusted with ladies."

"Is that why you're takin' it for a walk? . . . Well, I'll risk five
bob, if it's goin' cheap."

Mr Philp's face fell. "I'd ha' gone half-a-crown, myself,