And he turned to me. I think he must have been satisfied then.
Jael retired discomfited, and in her wrath again dropped half of her cabbages. John picked them up and restored them; but got for thanks only a parting thrust.
"Thee art mighty civil in thy new clothes. Be off, and be back again sharp; and, I say, don't thee be leaving the cart o' skins again under the parlour windows."
"I don't drive the cart now," was all he replied.
"Not drive the cart?" I asked, eagerly, when Jael had disappeared, for I was afraid some ill chance had happened.
"Only, that this winter I've managed to teach myself to read and add up, out of your books, you know; and your father found it out, and he says I shall go round collecting money instead of skins, and it's much better wages, and—I like it better—that's all."
But, little as he said, his whole face beamed with pride and pleasure. It was, in truth, a great step forward.
"He must trust you very much, John," said I, at last, knowing how exceedingly particular my father was in his collectors.
"That's it—that's what pleases me so. He is very good to me, Phineas, and he gave me a special holiday, that I might go out with you. Isn't that grand?"
"Grand, indeed. What fun we'll have! I almost think I could take a walk myself."