"for, of all others, it is the spot where a man learns to take care of his bacon."
"Hold your tongue!" cried the Dame angrily. "What business has you to gabble on so while you are in limbo?"
"Ah, dear Dame," said Paul, "we can't help these rubs and stumbles on our road to preferment!"
"Road to the scragging-post!" cried the Dame. "I tells you, child, you'll live to be hanged in spite of all my care and 'tention to you, though I hedicated you as a scholard, and always hoped as how you would grow up to be an honour to your"
"King and country," interrupted Paul. "We always say honour to king and country, which means getting rich and paying taxes. 'The more taxes a man pays, the greater honour he is to both,' as Augustus says.—Well, dear Dame, all in good time."
"What! you is merry—is you? Why does not you weep? Your heart is as hard as a brickbat. It looks quite unnatural and hyæna-like, to be so devil me careish!" So saying, the
