“Then,” said Fred, refilling his pipe, and composing himself in an easier attitude, “you will be kind enough to tell it for our entertainment.”

“I’ll villingly do that, sir, if you’ll promise not to go to sleep.”

“We can give no pledges,” replied Fred, with a grin.  “Whether we go to sleep or keep awake remains with the historian to decide.”

“Veil, then, I’ll do my best,” and Steel Spring crossed his right leg, as though it had helped him on many occasions.

I will relate his account of his life, although I shall leave his cockney expressions out, as much of it may mar the beauty and humor of the recital.  I don’t vouch for the truth of what he told us, and, in fact, I don’t believe that Steel Spring himself meant that we should.  However, he always swore that he spoke the truth, and, in lack of evidence, we were bound to believe him.

“I was born twenty-six years ago, in the vicinity of Belgrave Square, London, and as the locality was an aristocratic one, I need not mention that my parents were wealthy, and circulated in the highest circles in the kingdom.  There was great rejoicing when I came into the world, and I have been told that Parliament adjourned in honor of the event.”

“I wish to ask if the narrative is to consist of lies?” inquired Fred.

The fellow grinned as though he had been complimented, and without replying, continued,—­“I was sent to Eton when I grew old enough, and all that money could do was expended towards completing my education.  Latin and Greek, however, are languages which I was never able to master, and it’s owing to my dislike to them that I am now here.  I will explain the reason, so that you may not interrupt me with expressions of astonishment.  I was destined, when only ten years of age, to succeed the ambassador to Greece, an uncle of mine, who was full of years and honors, and wished to retire on half pay, like an invalid soldier or gouty bishop.  You will see the reason why I was supplied with Greek roots, until I thought my brain would turn in digging them.  But tasks and whippings were in vain.  The more I was beaten the less I learned, and the upshot of the matter was that I was sent home, and then kicked out of doors by an indignant father, who swore in good English that if my head was only as long in proportion as my legs, I should have comprehended the dead languages in less than a month.

“Alas! how little do parents understand the feelings which animate the bosom of their offspring.  I who was—­”

“Quit your moralizing, and drive on with your story,” growled Fred.

“All right, sir,” replied Steel Spring, not the least disconcerted.

“I had, when kicked from the home of which I was destined to be the ornament, only a half crown in my pocket—­smuggled there by an indulgent mother, who dreaded her husband’s wrath.  I knew that the money would purchase me a rasher of bacon and half a dozen pots of half-and-half, but that would not support me forever, you know, and it was necessary that I should stir these stumps which my heartless father had ridiculed.