Andrew again affirmatived his senior’s remarks.  That his treatment of Old Tom was sound, he presently had proof of.  The latter stood up, and after sniffing in an injured way for about a minute, launched out his right leg, and vociferated that he would like to have it in his power to kick all the villains out of the world:  a modest demand Andrew at once chimed in with; adding that, were such a faculty extended to him, he would not object to lose the leg that could benefit mankind so infinitely, and consented to its following them.  Then, Old Tom, who was of a practical turn, meditated, swung his foot, and gave one grim kick at the imaginary bundle of villains, discharged them headlong straight into space.  Andrew, naturally imitative, and seeing that he had now to kick them flying, attempted to excel Old Tom in the vigour of his delivery.  No wonder that the efforts of both were heating:  they were engaged in the task of ridding the globe of the larger half of its inhabitants.  Tom perceived Andrew’s useless emulation, and with a sound translated by ‘yack,’ sent his leg out a long way.  Not to be outdone, Andrew immediately, with a still louder ‘yack,’ committed himself to an effort so violent that the alternative between his leg coming off, or his being taken off his leg, was propounded by nature, and decided by the laws of gravity in a trice.  Joyful grunts were emitted by Old Tom at the sight of Andrew prostrate, rubbing his pate.  But Mrs. Sockley, to whom the noise of Andrew’s fall had suggested awful fears of a fratricidal conflict upstairs, hurried forthwith to announce to them that the sovereign remedy for human ills, the promoter of concord, the healer of feuds, the central point of man’s destiny in the flesh—­Dinner, was awaiting them.

To the dinner they marched.

Of this great festival be it simply told that the supply was copious and of good quality—­much too good and copious for a bankrupt host:  that Evan and Mr. John Raikes were formally introduced to Old Tom before the repast commenced, and welcomed some three minutes after he had decided the flavour of his first glass; that Mr. Raikes in due time preferred his petition for release from a dreadful engagement, and furnished vast amusement to the company under Old Tom’s hand, until, by chance, he quoted a scrap of Latin, at which the brothers Cogglesby, who would have faced peers and princes without being disconcerted, or performing mental genuflexions, shut their mouths and looked injured, unhappy, and in the presence of a superior:  Mr. Raikes not being the man to spare them.  Moreover, a surprise was afforded to Evan.  Andrew stated to Old Tom that the hospitality of Main Street, Lymport,—­was open to him.  Strange to say, Old Tom accepted it on the spot, observing, ’You’re master of the house—­can do what you like, if you ‘re man enough,’ and adding that he thanked him, and would come in a day or two.  The case of Mr. Raikes was still left uncertain, for as the bottle circulated, he exhibited such a faculty for apt, but to the brothers, totally incomprehensible quotation, that they fled from him without leaving him time to remember what special calamity was on his mind, or whether this earth was other than an abode conceived in great jollity for his life-long entertainment.