How sweet the butter our own hands have churned!—­T.  T.

He blessed his reverend friend for having taught him an art in a dunghole where idiots and savages teach crank.  He blessed his reverence’s four bones, his favorite imprecation of the benevolent kind.  I conclude the four bones meant the arms and legs.  If so it would have been more to the point had he blessed the fifth—­the skull.

Jenny came in and found him gloating over his virtuous shillings.  She stared.  He told her what he had been about these two days past, his difficulties, his success, the admiration his work excited throughout the capital (he must exaggerate a little or it would not be Tom Robinson), and the wealth he was amassing.

Jenny was glad to hear this, very glad, but she scolded him well for pawning his hat.  “Why didn’t you ask me?” said she; “I would have lent you a pound or even two, or given them you for any honest purpose.”  And Jenny pouted and got up a little quarrel.

The next day a gentleman caught Robinson and made him paint two doors in his fancy villa.  Satin-wood this time; and he received three pounds three shillings, a good dinner, and what Bohemians all adore—­Praise.  Now as he returned in the evening a sudden misgiving came to him.  “I have not thought once of Bathurst to-day.  I see—­all this money-making is a contrivance to keep me in Sydney.  It is absurd my coining paint at this rate.  I see your game, my lad; either I am to fall into bad company again, or to be split upon and nabbed for that last job.  To-morrow I will be on the road to Bathurst.  I can paint there just as well as here; besides I have got my orders from his reverence to go, and I’ll go.”

He told Jane his resolution.  She made no answer.  While these two were sitting cozily by the fireside—­for since Robinson took to working hard all day he began to relish the hearth at night—­suddenly cheerful, boisterous voices, and Mr. Miles and two friends burst in and would have an extempore supper, and nothing else would serve these libertines but mutton-chops off the gridiron.  So they invaded the kitchen.  Out ran Jenny to avoid them—­or put on a smarter cap; and Robinson was to cut the chops and lay a cloth on the dresser and help cook.  While his master went off to the cellar the two rakes who remained chattered and laughed both pretty loud.  They had dined together and the bottle had not stood still.

“I have heard that voice before,” thought Robinson.  “It is a very peculiar voice.  Whose voice is that?”

He looked the gentleman full in the face and could hardly suppress a movement of surprise.

The gentleman by the instinct of the eye caught his, and his attention was suddenly attracted to Robinson, and from that moment his eye was never off Robinson, following him everywhere.  Robinson affected not to notice this; the chops were grilling, Jenny came in and bustled about and pretended not to hear the side-compliments of the libertines.  Presently the young gentleman with the peculiar voice took out his pocketbook and said, “I have a bet to propose.  I’ll bet you fifty pounds I find the man you two hunted down the road on Monday night.”