THE SILVER FOX 19 



The room was set out for company; a brand 

 new counterpane covered the mountainous 

 bed, a naked mahogany table stood in the 

 centre, bearing a black bottle, a loaf of 

 bread, and a two-pound lump of butter on 

 a plate. A dazzling three-and-sixpenny 

 hearthrug was placed on the earthen floor 

 in front of a fire-place without a grate. 



" I had not the pleasure of the — the — the 

 dead gentleman's acquaintance," said one of 

 the visitors, a stout and greasy public-house 

 keeper, who had driven over to the enter- 

 tainment with a mutual friend, from a town 

 twelve miles away. " But I undherstand 

 he was greatly respected in this neighbour- 

 hood, and all his family the same." 



The eyes of the speaker were of a moist 

 redness befitting the occasion ; his voice 

 had a husky roll in it, and the raw and 

 tepid reek of bad whisky accompanied the 

 eulogy. 



** As for respect," rejoined the mutual 

 friend, addressing the hearthrug with slow 

 determination, " he had it, the Lord have 



