to do such a thing--but he won't; he's
too fond of the open air and sport and that."

"Young men don't study their fathers enough in this generation,
however," argued the innkeeper, "nor yet do young women study their
mothers enough."

"We've got to go out in the world and play our parts," declared Neddy.
"'Tis for them to study us--not us them. You must have progress. The
thing for parents to do is to know they're back numbers and act
according."

"They do--most of them," answered Mr. Gurd. "A back number is a back
number and behaves as such. I speak impartial being a bachelor, and I
forgive the young men their nonsense and pardon their opinions, because
I know I was young myself once, and as big a fool as anybody, and put
just the same strain on my parents, no doubt, though they lived to see
me a responsible man and done with childish things. The point for
parents is not to forget what it feels like to be young. That I never
have, and you young gentlemen would very soon remind me if I did. But
the late Mr. Henry Ironsyde found no time for all-round wisdom. He
poured his brains into hemp and jute and such like. Why, he didn't even
make a minute to court and wed till he was forty-five year old. And the
result of that was that when his brace of boys was over twenty, he stood
in sight of seventy and could only see life at that angle. And what made
it worse was, that his eldest, Mister Daniel, was cut just in his own
pattern. So the late gentleman never could forgive Mr. Raymond for being
cut in another pattern. But if what you say is right and Mister Raymond
has been left out in the cold, then I think he's been badly used."

"So he has--it's a damned shame," said Mr. Motyer, "and I hope Ray will
do something about it."

"There's very little we can do against the writing of the dead,"
answered Mr. Gurd. Then he saluted a man who bustled into the bar.

"Morning, Job. What's the trouble?"

Job Legg was very tall and thin. He dropped at the middle, but showed
vitality and energy in his small face and rodent features. His hair was
black, and his thin mouth and chin clean-shaven. His eyes were small and
very shrewd; his manner was humble. He had a monotonous inflection and
rather chanted in a minor key than spoke.

"Mrs. Northover's compliments and might we have the big fish kettle
till to-morrow? A party have been sprung on us, and five-and-twenty sit
down to lunch in the pleasure gardens at two o'clock."

"And wel