"I've come for--my money," he said, impressively-- "one 'under-eighty
pounds."
"But look 'ere," said the scandalised Bill, tugging at his sleeve; "you
ain't dead, Jack."
"You don't understan'," said Mr. Blows, impatiently. "They know wharri
mean; one 'undereighty pounds. They want to buy me a tombstone, an' I
don't want it. I want the money. Here, stop it! _Dye hear?_" The words
were wrung from him by the action of the president, who, after eyeing him
doubtfully during his remarks, suddenly prodded him with the butt-end of
one of the property spears which leaned against his chair. The solidity
of Mr. Blows was unmistakable, and with a sudden resumption of dignity
the official seated himself and called for silence.
"I'm sorry to say there's been a bit of a mistake made," he said, slowly,
"but I'm glad to say that Mr. Blows has come back to support his wife and
family with the sweat of his own brow. Only a pound or two of the money
so kindly subscribed has been spent, and the remainder will be handed
back to the subscribers."
"Here," said the incensed Mr. Blows, "listen me."
"Take him away," said the president, with great dignity.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31