He came here yesterday, and he's got it all.

You go to him.' He stopped for weakness.

Reuben's eyes were round.

Six hundred pounds! Who'd have thought it of Sandy ?--after that bad lot of a wife, and he not thirty! 'An what d' yo want Davy to be, Sandy ?' 'You must settle,' said the father, with a long sigh.

'Depends on him what he turns to.