"
"Well then, you must know, then, his uncle, my scapegrace brother
Tom--you'll mind Tom as sailed away in a emigrant ship--well, Natty
Bell, Tom has took an' died an' left a fortun' to our lad here."
"A fortun', John!--how much?"
"Seven--'undred--thousand--pound," said John, with a ponderous nod
after each word, "seven--'undred--thousand--pound, Natty Bell, and
there y' are."
Natty Bell opened his mouth, shut it, thrust his hands down into his
pockets and brought out a short clay pipe.
"Man Jack," said he, beginning to fill the pipe, yet with gaze
abstracted, "did I hear you say aught about a--gentleman?"
"Natty Bell, you did; our lad's took the idee into his nob to be a
gentleman, an' I were trying to knock it out again, but as it is.
Natty Bell, I fear me," and John Barty shook his handsome head and
sighed ponderously.
"Why then, John, let's sit down, all three of us, and talk this
matter over."
CHAPTER II
IN WHICH IS MUCH UNPLEASING MATTER REGARDING SILK PURSES,
SOWS' EARS, MEN, AND GENTLEMEN
A slender man was Natty Bell, yet bigger than he looked, and
prodigiously long in the reach, with a pair of very quick, bright
eyes, and a wide, good-humored mouth ever ready to curve into a smile.
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