uch about tobacco, and tobacco perhaps
isn't quits the thing for a man of education. But to be a chandler is
something worthy of any man's ambition. You supply at once the solids
and the luxuries of life; you range from boiled ham and pickles to
mixed biscuits and preserves. You are the focus of a whole street. The
father comes to you for his mid-day bread and cheese, the mother for
her half-ounce of tea, the child for its farthing's-worth of sweets.
For years I've been leading a useless life; once let me get into my
shop, and I become a column of the social system. Faith, it's as good
as done!"

"From whom shall you borrow the cash?"

"Sally's going to think about that point. I suppose we shall go to a
loan office, and make some kind of arrangement. I'm rather vague on
these things, but Sally will find it out."

"I understand," said Waymark, checking his amusement, that you are
perfectly serious in this plan?"

"As serious as I was in the moment of my birth! There's no other
chance."

"Very well, then, suppose I offer to lend you the money."

"You, Waymark?"

"No less a person."

And he went on to explain how it was that he was able to make the
offer, adding that any sum up to a hundred pounds was at his friend's
disposal.

"Ye mean it, Waymark!" cried O'Gree, leaping round the room in ecstasy.
"Bedad, you are a man and a brother, and no mistake! Ye're the first
that ever offered to lend me a penny; ye're the first that ever had
faith in me! You shall come with me to see Sally on Saturday, and tell
her this yourself, and I shouldn't be surprised if she gives you a
kiss!"

O'Gree exhausted himself in capering and vociferation, then sat down
and began to exercise his luxuriant imagination in picturing unheard-of
prosperity.

"We'll take a shop in a new neighbourhood, where we shall have the
monopoly. The people 'll get to know Sally; she'll be like a magnet
behind the counter. I shall go to the wholesale houses, and impress
them with a sense of my financial stability; I flatter myself I shall
look the prosperous shopkeeper, eh? Who knows what we may come to? Why,
in a few years we may transfer our business to Oxford Street or
Piccadilly, and call ourselves Italian warehousemen; and bedad, we'll
turn out in the end another Crosse and Blackwell, see if we don't!"

At the utmost limit of the time allowed him by the rules of The
Academy, the future man of business took his leave, in spirits
extravagant even