Chapter IV George Early came down to breakfast next morning half an hour after his usual time, blithely humming a tune. Mrs. Haskins had it on the tip of her tongue to say something caustic, but refrained. George Early "Quarter past eight," said George, looking at the watchmaker's over the way. "Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Haskins. "I've done all I could to get you up in time. I'm only flesh and blood; I can't keep the time back." "Tea hot?" said George, cheerfully ignoring this outburst. "It was half an hour ago. It's been standing on the 'ob—boiled and stewed and the Lord knows what else. Just what I always do say——" "Well, don't say it again," said George; "make some more. What's this—a kipper? Don't care for kippers this morning. Let's have some ham and eggs, and send Carrie out for the Morning Post." "That's all, Mrs. Haskins," as the landlady hesitated. "Oh, stop a minute! I'll have a rabbit for dinner at seven sharp." Mrs. Haskins stood by the door with the tea cosy in her hand and amazement on her face. "Shall I write it down?" said George. "Ham and eggs, Morning Post, rabbit." He sat down in the armchair and put one foot on the mantelpiece, while Mrs. Haskins groped her way out of the room and slipped down the first flight of stairs. "Parrott good, Gray good, Busby good. Yes," said George to himself with a smile of satisfaction; "it's the luckiest thing I've struck for many a day. This is going to be a picnic. They hadn't a word to say—not a word. Of course not. What could they say?" he asked a china dog on the mantelshelf. "Nothing." He got up and looked out of the window. The jeweller's shop opposite looked a paltry, second-rate establishment. Hansoms crawling by the end of the street were merely things that you held up a finger to. What was a fur overcoat like that man had on over the way? "Fifteen hundred pounds a year!" said George in delicious contemplation. "Fifteen hundred golden sovereigns, and a dip in the lucky bag for yours truly. All prizes and no blanks!" The Morning Post arrived.
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