KIPPS
"'E gets 'old of everything," said Ann. "You can't say a word———"
"Dadda got a cheque," this marvellous child repeated.
"Yes, o' man, I got a cheque. And it's got to go into a bank for you, against when you got to go to school. See? So's you'll grow up knowing your way about a bit."
"Dadda's got a cheque," said the wonder son, and then gave his mind to making mighty splashes with his foot. Every time he splashed, laughter overcame him, and he had to be held up for fear he should tumble out of the tub in his merriment. Finally he was towelled to his toe-tips, wrapped up in warm flannel, and kissed, and carried off to bed by Ann's cousin and lady help, Emma. And then after Ann had carried away the bath into the scullery, she returned to find her husband with his pipe extinct and the cheque still in his hand.
"Two fousand pounds," he said. "It's dashed rum. Wot 'ave I done to get two fousand pounds, Ann?"
“What 'aven't you—not to?” said Ann.
He reflected upon this view of the case.
“I shan't never give up this shop," he said at last.
"We're very 'appy 'ere," said Ann.
"Not if I 'ad fifty fousand pounds."
"No fear," said Ann.
"You got a shop," said Kipps, "and you come along in a year's time and there it is. But money—look 'ow it come and goes! There's no sense in money. You may kill yourself trying to get it, and then it comes when you aren't looking. There's my
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