“When you join me in London I will show you, friend Ratto, how, by acting the part of a scavenger, and clearing away that which, if left, would poison the air, the race of Mus does good service to man.”
“Little man thanks us for it!” cried I.
“Well, Bob,” said the farmer, as he leant back in his chair, and watched, with an air of amusement, his piebald favourite nibbling at a nut, “is it true what my good wife here tells me, that the post this morning actually brought a letter for you?”
“From Master Neddy,” exclaimed Bob, with sparkling eyes.
“He’s come back from Russy, and so has his father, and they’re so glad to be in old England again,” cried Billy, as in old times the most ready to speak. “The letter was sent first to the school,—the dear old school!—for they warn’t to know that missus was married, and we so snug down here in the country. Oh! won’t they be pleased to hear it? And is it not good in them, after all their travels, not to forget poor boys like us? Do you know, there was money in the letter?” he added, lowering his voice.
“Ah! Captain Blake did you some good turn, did he not?” said the farmer to Bob.
“He saved me from—” the boy coloured and paused,—
“From want, I suppose,” said Grange, ending his sentence for him, and stroking back Oddity’s sleek ears.
“From worse,” said Bob, looking down.
“Not from death?”