Which reminds me I
must be hopping, sir. But I couldn't go without thanking you on
behalf of--my friend Barrymaine, seeing he is precluded from--from
doing it himself. Sir, it was a great--a great grief to me--to lose
him for, as I fancy I told you, the hand of a Smivvle, sir--but he
is gone beyond plague or pestilence, or Jews, dammem! And he died,
sir, like a gentleman. So, on his behalf I do thank you deeply, and
I beg, herewith, to return you the twenty guineas you would have
given him. Here they are, sir." So saying, Mr. Smivvle released his
whisker and drawing a much worn purse from his pocket, tendered it
to Barnabas.
Then, seeing the moisture in Mr. Smivvle's averted eyes, and the
drooping dejection of Mr. Smivvle's whiskers, Barnabas took the
purse and the hand also, and holding them thus clasped, spoke.
"Mr. Smivvle," said he, "it is a far better thing to take the hand
of an honorable man and a loyal gentleman than to kiss the fingers
of a prince. This money belonged to your dead friend, let it be an
inheritance from him. As to myself, as I claim it an honor to call
myself your friend, so let it be my privilege to help you in your new
life and--and you will find five thousand guineas to your credit
when you reach New York, and--and heaven prosper you.
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