'E's kinder eddicated--got a bit o' larnin' as I 'aves myself." "Eddicated!" echoed Bill.

"Eddication's a fine thing, aint it, if it brings an old gaffer like 'im to trampin' the road! Seems to me the more people's eddicated the less they's able to make a livin'." "That's true! that's _dorned_ true!" said the man named Dubble, bringing his great fist down on the table with a force that made the tankards jump.

"My darter, she's larned to play the pianner, an' I'm _dorned_ if she kin do anythin' else! Just a gillflurt she is, an' as sassy as a magpie.

That's what eddication 'as made of 'er an' be _dorned_ to 't!" "'Scuse me," and Bill Bush now addressed himself immediately to Helmsley, "_ef_ I may be so bold as to arsk you wheer ye comes from, meanin' no 'arm, an' what's yer purfession ?" Helmsley looked up with a friendly smile.
"I've no profession now," he answered at once.

"But in my time--before I got too old--I did a good deal of office work." "Office work! In a 'ouse of business, ye means?
Readin', 'ritin', 'rithmetic, an' mebbe sweepin' the floor at odd times an' runnin' errands ?" "That's it!" answered Helmsley, still smiling.
"An' they won't 'ave ye no more ?" "I am too old," he answered quietly.
Here Dubble turned slowly round and surveyed him.
"How old be ye ?" "Seventy." Silence ensued.