‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. Ruth loved him. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. In a sense it alters nothing. "Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's James Boyle in the family group. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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