James Yarlett was of his nickname. He stood six feet four and a half inches in height, and his girth was proportionate; he had enormous hands and feet, large features, and a magnificent long dark brown beard; owing to this beard his necktie was never seen. But the most magnificent thing about him was his voice, acknowledged to be the finest bass in the town, and one of the finest even in Hanbridge, where, in his earlier prime, James had lived as a ‘news comp’ on the “Staffordshire Signal.” He was now a ‘jobbing comp’ in Bursley, because Bursley was his native town and because he preferred jobbing. He made the fourth and heaviest member of the Bursley Male Glee Party, the other three being Arthur Smallrice, an old man with a striking falsetto voice, Abraham Harracles, and Jos Rawnpike (pronounced Rampick). These men were accustomed to fame, and Big James was the king of them, though the mildest. They sang at dinners, free-and-easies, concerts, and Martinmas tea-meetings. They sang for the glory, and when there was no demand for their services, they sang to themselves, for the sake of singing. Each of them was a star in some church or . And except Arthur Smallrice, they all shared a certain of religious opinion. Big James, for example, had in ten years from Wesleyan, through Old Church, to Roman Catholic up at Bleakridge. It all depended on niceties in the treatment accorded to him, and on the choice of . Moreover, he liked a change.  
He was what his superiors called ‘a very superior man.’ Owing to the more careful required in singing, he had lost a great deal of the Five Towns accent, and one cannot be a compositor for a quarter of a century without insensibly acquiring an education and a store of knowledge far excelling the ordinary. His manner was gentle, and perhaps somewhat , as is common with very big men; but you could never be sure whether an extremely humour did not his . He was a bachelor, forty-five, and lived quietly with a married sister at the bottom of Woodisun Bank, near the National Schools. The wonder was that, with all his advantages, he had not more deeply impressed himself upon Bursley as an individuality, and not merely as a voice. But he seemed never to seek to do so. He was without ambition; and, though careful sometimes about preserving his own dignity, and beyond question sensitive by , he showed marked respect, and even , to the worldly-successful. Despite his bigness and there was something small about him which came out in odd details. Thus it was characteristic of Big James to ask Edwin to be waiting for him at the back gates in Woodisun Bank when he might just as easily have met him at the side door by the closed shop in Wedgwood Street.
 
Edwin, who from pride had said nothing to his sisters about the visit to the Dragon, was a little surprised and dashed to see Big James in broadcloth and a high hat; for he had not dreamed of changing his own everyday suit, nor had it occurred to him that the Dragon was a temple of ceremoniousness. Big James looked enormous. The wide lapel of his shining frock-coat was buttoned high up under his beard and curved for a distance of more than a yard to his knees: it was a heroic frock-coat. The sleeves were wide, but narrowing at the wrists, and the white wristbands were very tight. The trousers fell in ample folds on the uppers of the gigantic boots. Big James had a way of sticking out his chest and throwing his head back which would have projected the tip of his beard ten inches from his body, had the beard been stiff; but the soft silkiness of the beard this spectacular phenomenon, which would have been very interesting to witness.
 
Two.
The pair stepped across Trafalgar Road together, Edwin, though he tried to be , nothing but a frisking by the side of the vast monument. Compared with the architectural of Mr Varlett, his thin, , free-moving limbs had an almost pathetic appearance of ephemeral fragility.
 
Big James directed himself to the archway leading to the Dragon stables, and there he saw an ostler or oddman. Edwin, feeling the of an , surreptitiously explored a pocket to be sure that the proof of the wedding-card was safely there.
 
The ostler raised his reddish to Big James. Big James jerked his head to one side, indicating the entire Dragon, and conveying a . The ostler paused immobile an instant and then shook his turnip-pate. Big James turned away. No word had been spoken; nevertheless, the men had exchanged a dialogue which might be thus put into words—
 
“I wasn’t thinking to see ye so soon,” from the ostler.
 
“Then nobody of any importance has yet gone into the assembly room?” from Big James.
 
“Nobody worth speaking of, and won’t, for a while,” from the other.
 
“Then I’ll take a turn,” from Big James.
 
The latter now looked down at Edwin, and addressed him in words—
 
“Seemingly we’re too soon, Mr Edwin. What do you say to a turn round the town—playground way? I doubted we should be too soon.”
 
Edwin showed . As a schoolboy it had been definitely forbidden to him to go out at night; and unless sent on a special and hurried errand, he had scarcely seen the physiognomy of the streets after eight o’clock. He had never seen the playground in the evening. And this evening the town did not seem like the same town; it had become a new and mysterious town of adventure. And yet Edwin was not fifty yards away from his own bedroom.
 
They Duck Bank together, Edwin proud to be with a of the calibre of Big James, and Big James calmly satisfied to show himself thus formally with his master’s son. It appeared almost incredible that those two , so diverse, had issued from the womb practically alike; that a few brief years on the earth had given Big James such a tremendous physical advantage. Several hours’ daily to the exact of lines of type and to the unvarying demands of minutely adjusted machines in motion had stamped Big James’s body and mind with the delicate and quasi-finicking preciseness which characterises all compositors and printers; and the continual performance of similar tasks that employed his while never absorbing or straining them, had and dulled the fever of life in him to a beneficent calm, a calm refined and beautified by the pleasurable exercise of song. Big James had seldom known a violent emotion. He had nothing, sought for nothing, and lost nothing.
 
Edwin, like Big James in progress from to everlasting, was all , unformed, undisciplined, and burning with capricious fires; all expectant, eager, reluctant, , timid, innocently and wistfully audacious. By taking the boy’s hand, Big James might have symbolised their relation.
 
Three.
“Are you going to sing to-night at the Dragon, Mr Yarlett?” asked Edwin. He his step to Big James’s, controlled his body, and tried to remember that he was a man with a man.
 
“I am, young sir,” said Big James. “There is a party of us.”
 
“Is it the Male Glee Party?” Edwin pursued.
 
“Yes, Mr Edwin.”
 
“Then Mr Smallrice will be there?”
 
“He will, Mr Edwin.”
 
“Why can Mr Smallrice sing such high notes?”
 
Big James slowly shook his head, as Edwin looked up at him. “I tell you what it is, young sir. It’s a gift, that’s what it is, same as I can sing low.”
 
“But Mr Smallrice is very old, isn’t he?”
 
“There’s a parrot in a cage over at the Duck, there, as is eighty-five years old, and that’s proved by record kept, young sir.”
 
“No!” protested Edwin’s incredulity politely.
 
“By record kept,” said Big James.
 
“Do you often sing at the Dragon, Mr Yarlett?”
 
“Time was,” said Big James, “when some of us used to sing there every night, Sundays excepted, and concerts and whatnot e............