"That's a good story, lad. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. She paused. Manning, and glanced round hastily for further horticultural points of interest in secluded corners. . Not at all. "Of course," rejoined the bystander, who had just spoken, and who was of a cynical turn,—"the greater the rascal, the better they like him. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. “Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you.
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