his dear brother Jacob, and seized the opportunity of making him a small present, which he would find particularly agreeable to the taste.  Jacob, you understand, was not an intense idiot, but within a certain limited range knew how to choose the good and reject the evil:  he took one lozenge, by way of test, and sucked it as if he had been a philosopher; then, in as great an ecstacy at its new and complex savour as Caliban at the taste of Trinculo’s wine, chuckled and stroked this suddenly beneficent brother, and held out his hand for more; for, except in fits of anger, Jacob was not ferocious or needlessly predatory.  David’s courage half returned, and he left off praying; pouring a dozen lozenges into Jacob’s palm, and trying to look very fond of him.  He congratulated himself that he had formed the plan of going to see Miss Sally Lunn this afternoon, and that, as a consequence, he had brought with him these propitiatory delicacies:  he was certainly a lucky fellow; indeed, it was always likely Providence should be fonder of him than of other apprentices, and since he was to be interrupted, why, an idiot was preferable to any other sort of witness.  For the first time in his life, David thought he saw the advantage of idiots.

As for Jacob, he had thrust his pitchfork into the ground, and had thrown himself down beside it, in thorough abandonment to the unprecedented pleasure of having five lozenges in his mouth at once, blinking meanwhile, and making inarticulate sounds of gustative content.  He had not yet given any sign of noticing the guineas, but in seating himself he had laid his broad right hand on them, and unconsciously kept it in that position, absorbed in the sensations of his palate.  If he could only be kept so occupied with the lozenges as not to see the guineas before David could manage to cover them!  That was David’s best hope of safety; for Jacob knew his mother’s guineas; it had been part of their common experience as boys to be allowed to look at these handsome coins, and rattle them in their box on high days and holidays, and among all Jacob’s narrow experiences as to money, this was likely to be the most memorable.

“Here, Jacob,” said David, in an insinuating tone, handing the box to him, “I’ll give ’em all to you.  Run!—­make haste!—­else somebody’ll come and take ’em.”

David, not having studied the psychology of idiots, was not aware that they are not to be wrought upon by imaginative fears.  Jacob took the box with his left hand, but saw no necessity for running away.  Was ever a promising young man wishing to lay the foundation of his fortune by appropriating his mother’s guineas obstructed by such a day-mare as this?  But the moment must come when Jacob would move his right hand to draw off the lid of the tin box, and then David would sweep the guineas into the hole with the utmost address and swiftness, and immediately seat himself upon them.  Ah, no!  It’s of no use to have foresight when you are dealing with