s," replied the farmer, promptly.
"And he must bind himself for three months certain--I'm not going to be
thrown out of a boy at the orkardest time of the year for getting 'em
into sharp ways. And I can't have no asking for holidays for three
months, either."

Jowett looked at Geoff.

"Very well," said Geoff.

"And you must go to church reg'lar," added the farmer. "You can manage
it well enough, and Sunday school, too, if you're sharp--there's only
twice to the station on Sundays."

"On Sundays, too?" repeated Geoff. Sundays at worst had been a day of no
work at home.

"To be sure," said Eames, sharply. "Beasts can't do for themselves on
Sundays no more than any other day. And Londoners can't drink sour milk
on Sundays neither."

"No," said Geoff, meekly enough. "Of course I'm used to church," he
added, "but I think I'm rather too old for the Sunday school."

"I'll leave that to the parson," said the farmer. "Well, now then, we
may as well see if dinner's not ready. It's quite time, and you'll be
getting hungry, Mr. Jowett," he added, with a slight hesitation.

"Why not call me Ned? You're very high in your manners to-day, Eames,"
said the other, with a sort of wink.

Then they both laughed and walked on, leaving Geoff to follow. Nothing
was said about _his_ being hungry.

"Perhaps _I_ shall be expected to dine with the pigs," he thought.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IX.

PIGS, ETC.

It was not quite so bad as that, however. Farmer Eames turned in at the
farmyard gate and led the two strangers into a good-sized kitchen, where
the table was already set, in a homely fashion, for dinner. A stout,
middle-aged woman, with a rather sharp face, turned from the fire, where
she was superintending some cooking.

"Here we are again, wife," said Eames. "Glad to see dinner's ready. Take
a chair, Mr. Ned. You'll have a glass of beer to begin with?" and as he
poured it out, "This here's the new boy, missis--I've settled to give
him a trial."

Mrs. Eames murmured something, which Geoff supposed must have been
intended as a kind of welcome. She was just then lifting a large pan of
potatoes off the fire, and as she turned her face to the light, Geoff
noticed that it was very red--redder than a moment before. He could
almost have fancied the farmer's wife was shy.

"Shall I help you?" he exclaimed, darting forward to take hold of the
pan.

Eames burst out laughing.

"That's a good joke," he