mein halberdier go back und stand mit his halberd. But, gendleman,’ he says, pointing to the old man, ‘you go ahead and sue mit der dress. Sue me for $600 or $6,000. I stand der suit.’ And the boss puffs off down-stairs. Old Brockmann was an all-right Dutchman.
“Just then the clock strikes twelve, and the old guy laughs loud. ‘You win, Deering,’ says he. ‘Let me explain to all,’ he goes on. ‘Some time ago Mr. Deering asked me for something that I did not want to give him.’ (I looks at the girl, and she turns as red as a pickled beet.) ‘I told him,’ says the old guy, ‘if he would earn his own living for three months without once being discharged for incompetence, I would give him what he wanted. It seems that the time was up at twelve o’clock to-night. I came near fetching you, though, Deering, on that soup question,’ says the old boy, standing up and grabbing Sir Percival’s hand.
“The halberdier lets out a yell and jumps three feet high.
“‘Look out for those hands,’ says he, and he holds ’em up. You never saw such hands except on a labourer in a limestone quarry.
“‘Heavens, boy!’ says old side-whiskers, ‘what have you being doing to ’em?’
“‘Oh,’ says Sir Percival, ‘little chores like hauling coal and excavating rock till they went back on me. And when I could n’t hold a pick or a whip I took up halberdiering to give ’em a rest. Tureens full of hot soup don’t seem to be a particularly soothing treatment.’
