ee how it was done. This was on the day after our
first meeting. The habit was subtly characteristic of the man, because it
was so suggestive of gustatory enthusiasm. He was for ever savouring
the taste of life and of words, especially of words.

'Well, as it happeneth, Nickperry, your desire for a job is curiously
synchronacious with my need of a handy lad. My handy lad stopped being
a lad yesterday morning, was married before dinner, and is now away
connubialising--honeymoon. After which he goes into partnership with
his father-in-law--greens an' fish. It's generally a mistake to make
partnerial arrangements with relations, Nickperry--apt to bring about
a combustuous staterthings. So I wanterandyladyersee.'

'Yes, sir.'

'My name is Mister Perkins, Nickperry, not "Sir."'

'Yes, Mr. Perkins.'

'That's better. I know you don't mean to be servileacious, but that
English "sir" is--we don't like it in Australia, Nickperry. You are
from the Old Country, aren't you?'

I admitted it, and marvelled how Mr. Perkins could have known it.

'H'm! Tssp! Fine ol' institootion the Old Country, but cert'nly a bit
servileacious. D'jerknowhowtermilkercow?'

'I've been milking four, night and morning, for over two years,
s'--Mister Perkins,' I answered, with some pride.

'Good for yez, Nickperry. Whataboutgardening?'

'I worked in the garden every day at the Orphanage, s'--Mister
Perkins.'

Mr. Perkins smiled even more broadly than usual. 'It's "Mister" not
"Smister" Perkins, Nickperry.'

I smiled, and felt the colour rise in my face. (How I used to curse
that girlish blushing habit!)

'Tssp! Well, I see you can take a joke, anyway; an' that's even more
important, really, than horticulturous knowledge. Tssp! There's my
breakfast bell, an' I'm not dressed. Jus' come along this way,
Nickperry.'

In the neatly paved yard at the back of the house stood a
well-conditioned cow, of the colour of a new-husked horse chestnut. She
was peacefully chewing her cud, oblivious quite to the flight of time.
Mr. Perkins ambled swiftly into the house, rolling out again, as it
seemed within the second, as though he had bounced against an inner wall,
and handing me a milk-pail.

'Stool over there. Jus' milk the cow for me, Nickperry.
Seeyagaindreckly!'

And he was gone, having floated within doors, like a huge ball of
thistledown on well-oiled castors. Next moment I heard his mellow,
rotund voice again, several rooms away.

'Sossidge!