njoyed my
uncle's bountiful hospitality."

This the young man did: and then the brown-faced, wiry and surly
little person, having started his horse, proceeded to tell his story
in a series of grumbling and disconnected sentences. He was not nearly
so taciturn as he looked: "The maaester he went suen to bed to-night:
'twere Miss Juliott sent me to the station, without tellin' en. He's
gettin' worse and worse, that's sure: if yue be for giving me half a
crown, like, or any one that comes to the house, he finds it out and
stops it out o' my wages: yes, he does, zor, the old fule!"

"Tobias, be a little more respectful to my uncle, if you please."

"Why, zor, yue knaw en well enough," said the man in the same surly
fashion. "And I'll tell yue this, Maaester Harry, if yue be after
dinner with en, and he has a bottle o' poort wine that he puts on
the mantelpiece, and he says to yue to let that aloaen, vor 'tis a
medicine-zart o' wine, don't yue heed en, but have that wine. 'Tis the
real old poort wine, zor, that yuer vather gied en--the dahmned old
pagan!"

The young man burst out laughing, instead of reprimanding Tobias, who
maintained his sulky impassiveness of face.

"Why, zor, I be gardener now, too: yaaes I be, to save the wages.
And he's gone clean mazed about that garden--yaaes, I think. Would yue
believe this, Maaester Harry, that he killed every one o' the blessed
strawberries last year with a lot o' wrack from the bache, because he
said it wued be as good for them as for the 'sparagus?"

"Well, but the old chap finds amusement in pottering about the
garden--" said Master Harry.

"The old fule!" repeated Tobias, in an under tone.

"And the theory is sound about the seaweed and the strawberries;
just as his old notion of getting a green rose by pouring sulphate of
copper in at the roots."

"Yaaes, that were another pretty thing, Maaester Harry, and he had the
tin labels all printed out in French, and he waited and waited, and
there bain't a fairly guede rose left in the garden. And his violet
glass for the cucumbers: he burned en up to once, although 'twere fine
to hear'n talk about the sunlight and the rays and such nonsenses. He
be a strange mahn, zor, and a dahmned close'n with his penny-pieces,
Christian and all as he calls his-sen. There's Miss Juliott, zor,
she's go-in' to get married, I suppose; and when she goes no one 'll
dare spake to 'n. Be yue going to stop long this time, Maaester Harry?"

"N