Besides, I am poor.

I will not buy your book, but I will send you to a man who will give you ten pounds for it, I am sure, and then he will sell it for fifteen." He wrote the address on a slip of paper.

"Why, Mr.
Farrar, if an old friend, so to speak, can put the question, why in the world--" "The most natural thing," replied Mr.Farrar with a cold laugh; "I am old, as I told you, and the younger men get all the work.

That is all.
Nobody wants a genealogist and antiquary." "Dear me, dear me! Why, Mr.Farrar, I remember now; you used to know my poor son-in-law, who is dead eighteen years since.

I was just reading the last letter he ever wrote to me, just before he died.