and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famous for talking little and doing much.
Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had received information of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement. That same afternoon he put on his broad-brimmed white hat, and walking out to the village in which she lived, called upon the vicar, who was a particular and intimate friend of his. Having ascertained from the vicar that Mrs. Grumbit would not accept of charity, he said abruptly,—
"And why not—is she too proud?"
"By no means," replied the vicar. "She says that she would think shame to take money from friends as long as she can work, because every penny that she would thus get would be so much less to go to the helpless poor, of whom, she says, with much truth, there are enough and to spare. And I quite agree with her as regards her principle; but it does not apply fully to her, for she cannot work so as to procure a sufficient livelihood without injury to her health."
"Is she clever?" inquired Mr. Jollyboy.
"Why, no, not particularly. In fact, she does not often exert her reasoning faculties, except in the commonplace matters of ordinary and everyday routine."
