I knew that I was under observation, so I continued eating as if the news had not interested me. My uncle explained to old Cotter.

`The youngster and he were great friends. The old chap taught him a great deal, mind you; and they say he had a great wish for him.'

`God have mercy on his soul,' said my aunt piously.

Old Cotter looked at me for a while. I felt that his little beady black eyes were examining me, but I would not satisfy him by looking up from my plate. He returned to his pipe and finally spat rudely into the grate.

`I wouldn't like children of mine,' he said, `to have too much to say to a man like that.'

`How do you mean, Mr Cotter?' asked my aunt.

`What I mean is,' said old Cotter, `it's bad for children. My idea is: let a young lad run about and play with young lads of his own age and not be... Am I right, Jack?'

`That's my principle, too,' said my uncle. `Let him learn to box his corner. That's what I'm always saying to that Rosicrucian there: take exercise. Why, when I was a nipper, every morning of my life I had a cold bath, winter and summer. And that's what stands to me now. Education is all very fine and large... Mr Cotter might take a pick of that leg of mutton,' he added to my aunt.

`No, no, not for me,' said old Cotter.

My aunt brought the dish from the safe and put it on the table.

`But why do you think it's not good for children, Mr Cotter?' she asked.

`It's bad for children,' said old Cotter, `because their minds are so impressionable. When children see things like that, you know, it has an effect... '

I crammed my mouth with stirabout for fear I might give utterance to my anger. Tiresome old red-nosed imbecile!

It was late when I fell asleep. Though I was angry with old Cotter for alluding to me as a child, I puzzled my head to extract meaning from his unfinished sentences.