"Who, sir--my uncle Frederick?"

"Yes."

"No, sir, he only said that I must wait."

"Like I have to wait for the sun to ripen my fruit, eh? Ah, but I don't

like that. If the sun don't come I pick it, and store it under cover to

ripen as well as it will."

I looked at him wonderingly.

"That waiting," he went on, "puts me in mind of the farmer and his corn

in the fable--get out, cats!--he waited till he found that the proper

thing to do was to get his sons to work and cut the corn themselves."

"Yes, sir," I said smiling; "and then the lark thought it was time to

take her young ones away."

"Good, lad; right!" he cried. "That fable contains the finest lesson a

boy can learn. Don't you wait for others to help you: help yourself."

"I'll try, sir."

"That's right. Ah! I wish I had always been as wise as that lark."

"Then you would not wait if you were me, sir?" I said, looking up at

him wonderingly.

"Not a week, my lad, if you can get anything to do. Fact is, I've been

looking into it, and your relations are all waiting for each other to

take you in hand. There isn't one of them wants the job."

I sighed, and said: "I'm afraid I shall be a great deal of trouble to them, sir, and an

enormous expense."

"Oh, you think so, do you!" he said, stooping down and lifting up first

one cat and then another, stroking them gently the while. Then one of

them, as usual, leaped upon his back. "Well, look here, my boy," he

said thoughtfully, "that's all nonsense about expense! I--"

He stopped short and went on stroking one cat's back, as it rubbed

against his leg, and he seemed to be thinking very deeply.

"Yes, all nonsense. See here; wait for a week or two, perhaps one of

your uncles may find you something to do, or send you to a good school,

eh?"

"No, sir," I said; "my uncle Frederick said I must not expect to be sent

to a school."

"Oh he did, did he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then, if nothing better turns up--if they don't find you a good

place, you might come and help me."

"Help you, sir!" I said wonderingly; "what, learn to be a

market-gardener?"

"Yes, there's nothing so very dreadful in that, is there?"

"Oh no, sir! but what could I do?"

"Heaps of things. Tally the bunches and check the sieves, learn to bud

and graft, and how to cut young trees, and--oh, I could find you enough

to do."

I looked at him aghast, and began to see in my mind's eye rough, dirty

Shock, crawling about on his hands and knees, and digging out the weeds

from among the onions with his fingers.




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