Page:The White Peacock, Lawrence, 1911.djvu/390

382 the eyelids slack. There was one man whom we called the Parrot, because he had a hooked nose, and put forward his head as he talked. He had been a very large man, but he was grey, and bending at the shoulders. His face was pale and fleshy, and his eyes seemed dull sighted.

George patronised the men, and they did not object. He chaffed them, making a good deal of demonstration in giving them more beer. He invited them to pass up their plates, called the woman to bring more bread and altogether played mine host of a feast of beggars. The Parrot ate very slowly.

“Come Dad,” said George “you’re not getting on. Not got many grinders——?”

“What I’ve got’s in th’ road. Is’ll ’ae ter get em out. I can manage wi’ bare gums, like a baby again.”

“Second childhood, eh ? Ah well, we must all come to it,” George laughed.

The old man lifted his head and looked at him, and said slowly:

“You’n got ter ower th’ first afore that.”

George laughed, unperturbed. Evidently he was well used to the thrusts of the public-house.

“I suppose you soon got over yours,” he said.

The old man raised himself and his eyes flickered into life. He chewed slowly, then said:

“I’d married, an’ paid for it; I’d broke a constable’s jaw an’ paid for it; I’d deserted from the army, an’ paid for that: I’d had a bullet through my cheek in India atop of it all, by I was your age.”

“Oh!” said George, with condescending interest, “you’ve seen a bit of life then?”

They drew the old man out, and he told them, in