"Ha!" he observes when he is in trim again. "If you could have traced out the captain, Mr. George, it would have been the making of you. If when you first came here, in consequence of our advertisement in the newspapers--when I say 'our,' I'm alluding to the advertisements of my friend in the city, and one or two others who embark their capital in the same way, and are so friendly towards me as sometimes to give me a lift with my little pittance--if at that time you could have helped us, Mr. George, it would have been the making of you."
"I was willing enough to be 'made,' as you call it," says Mr. George, smoking not quite so placidly as before, for since the entrance of Judy he has been in some measure disturbed by a fascination, not of the admiring kind, which obliges him to look at her as she stands by her grandfather's chair, "but on the whole, I am glad I wasn't now."
"Why, Mr. George? In the name of--of brimstone, why?" says Grandfather Smallweed with a plain appearance of exasperation. (Brimstone apparently suggested by his eye lighting on Mrs. Smallweed in her slumber.)
"For two reasons, comrade."

"Ha!" he observes. "If you could have found the captain, Mr. George, it would have been the making of you. If when you first came here, in consequence of our advertisement in the newspapers - if you could have helped us, Mr. George, it would have been the making of you."
"I was willing enough to be 'made,' as you call it," says Mr. George, smoking not quite so placidly as before, "but on the whole, I am glad I wasn't now."
"Why, Mr. George? In the name of brimstone, why?" says Grandfather Smallweed with exasperation.
"For two reasons, comrade. 