Taking his stand as
near to the cakes as he could get, and fixing his eyes affectionately
upon them, he would begin to whine, and the shopkeeper, thinking he was
dealing with an honest dog, would throw him one.
To get the cake he was obliged, of course, to drop the penny, and then
began a struggle between him and the shopkeeper for the possession of the
coin. The man would try to pick it up. The dog would put his foot upon
it, and growl savagely. If he could finish the cake before the contest
was over, he would snap up the penny and bolt. I have known him to come
home gorged with sponge-cakes, the original penny still in his mouth.
So notorious throughout the neighbourhood did this dishonest practice of
his become, that, after a time, the majority of the local tradespeople
refused to serve him at all. Only the exceptionally quick and
able-bodied would attempt to do business with him.
Then he took his custom further afield, into districts where his
reputation had not yet penetrated. And he would pick out shops kept by
nervous females or rheumatic old men.
They say that the love of money is the root of all evil. It seemed to
have robbed him of every shred of principle.
It robbed him of his life in the end, and that came about in this way. He
had been performing one evening in Gadbut's room, where a few of us were
sitting smoking and talking; and young Hollis, being in a generous mood,
had thrown him, as he thought, a sixpence.
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