Barker, tucking the book under
his arm; "whatever pursuit the boy may follow, he'll want to follow
it unmolested. And therefore, in any case, I must teach him to use
the small-sword."

During the first few months, almost every entry in the Captain's
green volume dealt with Tristram's appetite. Nor did this fluctuate
enough to make the record exciting. He was a slow, phlegmatic
infant, with red cheeks and an exuberant crop of yellow curls.
He slept all night and a good third of the day, and, beyond cutting
ten teeth in as many months, exhibited no precocity. Nothing
troubled him, if we except an insatiable hunger. He was weaned with
extreme difficulty, and even when promoted to bread and biscuits and
milk puddings, continued to recognise his nurse's past service and
reward it with so sincere an affection that the woman accepted an
increase of wage and cheerfully consented to stay on and take care of
him.

Captain Barker saw nothing in all this to shake his first resolution
of making the boy a gardener, but rather found in each successive day
a reason the more for making haste to learn something about
horticulture himself, in order that when the time came he might be
able to teach it. At length he took counsel with Narcissus Swiggs
and unfolded his desire.

Mr. Swiggs listened sleepily, and as soon as his master had done gave
him a month's notice.

"What the devil's the use of that?" Captain Barker asked.

"I thought you weren't satisfied, that's all."

"If I weren't, I should kick you out without half these words.
You've been thinking of yourself all this while."

"I mostly does."

"Then don't, while I'm talking." And Captain Barker explained his
scheme a second time.

"No use," pronounced Mr. Swiggs at the close, shaking his head
ponderously.

"Why not?"

Mr. Swiggs swept his hand before him, summing up the whole landscape
with one majestic semicircle.

"Where is your soil?" he asked. "And where is your water?
Springs?"--he paused a couple of seconds--"There ain't none. All
that mortal man can do, I does."

"And what is that?"

"I does without."

"But the marsh behind us--"

"Salt."

"Narcissus Swiggs, you have been in my service twenty years."

"Twenty-three."

"During that time you have once or twice argued with me. I ask you,
as a Christian man, to tell me truly what you got by it."

"Naught."

"Just so. On this occasion, however, I've listened with great
patience to all yo