“Mr. Robert Swinney!”

“Sir to you,” says Swinney, as cool as possible, and some of the chaps began to titter.

“Mr. Swinney!” roared Brough, in a voice still bigger than before, “when you came into this office—­this family, sir, for such it is, as I am proud to say—­you found three-and-twenty as pious and well-regulated young men as ever laboured together—­as ever had confided to them the wealth of this mighty capital and famous empire.  You found, sir, sobriety, regularity, and decorum; no profane songs were uttered in this place sacred to—­to business; no slanders were whispered against the heads of the establishment—­but over them I pass:  I can afford, sir, to pass them by—­no worldly conversation or foul jesting disturbed the attention of these gentlemen, or desecrated the peaceful scene of their labours.  You found Christians and gentlemen, sir!”

“I paid for my place like the rest,” said Swinney.  “Didn’t my governor take sha-?”

“Silence, sir!  Your worthy father did take shares in this establishment, which will yield him one day an immense profit.  He did take shares, sir, or you never would have been here.  I glory in saying that every one of my young friends around me has a father, a brother, a dear relative or friend, who is connected in a similar way with our glorious enterprise; and that not one of them is there but has an interest in procuring, at a liberal commission, other persons to join the ranks of our Association. But, sir, I am its chief.  You will find, sir, your appointment signed by me; and in like manner, I, John Brough, annul it.  Go from us, sir!—­leave us—­quit a family that can no longer receive you in its bosom!  Mr. Swinney, I have wept—­I have prayed, sir, before I came to this determination; I have taken counsel, sir, and am resolved. Depart from out of us!

“Not without three months’ salary, though, Mr. B.:  that cock won’t fight!”

“They shall be paid to your father, sir.”

“My father be hanged!  I tell you what, Brough, I’m of age; and if you don’t pay me my salary, I’ll arrest you,—­by Jingo, I will!  I’ll have you in quod, or my name’s not Bob Swinney!”

“Make out a cheque, Mr. Roundhand, for the three months’ salary of this perverted young man.”

“Twenty-one pun’ five, Roundhand, and nothing for the stamp!” cried out that audacious Swinney.  “There it is, sir, re-ceipted.  You needn’t cross it to my banker’s.  And if any of you gents like a glass of punch this evening at eight o’clock, Bob Swinney’s your man, and nothing to pay.  If Mr. Brough would do me the honour to come in and take a whack?  Come, don’t say no, if you’d rather not!”

We couldn’t stand this impudence, and all burst out laughing like mad.

“Leave the room!” yelled Mr. Brough, whose face had turned quite blue; and so Bob took his white hat off the peg, and strolled away with his “tile,” as he called it, very much on one side.  When he was gone, Mr. Brough gave us another lecture, by which we all determined to profit; and going up to Roundhand’s desk put his arm round his neck, and looked over the ledger.