"I wish to know," I added, with all the kindness of manner I could assume, "whether you are anxious to find work, for I am in want of a youth to assist my coachman."
The poor boy twisted his bundle about, and after having duly placed his hand to his head, managed to answer, in an awkward kind of way, that he would be very thankful.
I mentioned not a word about what I had overheard with regard to the peony, but, inviting him into the house, I sent for the coachman, to whose care I entrusted the newcomer.
Nearly a month had passed after this meeting and conversation occurred when I resolved to make some inquiries of the coachman regarding the conduct of the lad.
"A better boy never came into the house, sir, and as for wasting anything, bless me, sir, I know not where he has been brought up, but I really believe he would consider it a sin if he did not give the crumbs of bread to the poor birds every morning."
"I am glad to hear so good an account," I replied.
"And as for his good-nature, sir, there is not a servant among us that doesn't speak well of Joseph. He reads to us while we sup, and he writes all our letters for us. Oh, sir, he has got more learning than all of us put together; and what's more, he doesn't mind work, and never talks about our secrets after he writes our letters."
Determined to see Joseph myself, I requested the coachman to send him to the parlour.
"I understand, Joseph, that you can read and write."