"We will not!" they agreed eagerly.

"Well, he was caught poaching, and sent to prison for six weeks," Mr. Grey went on to explain. "No doubt he deserved his punishment. Of course, when he was released from jail, he found his master had filled his place and had no work for him. And his young wife, unable to pay the rent of their cottage, had been obliged to give it up and return to her own people. For several weeks now, he has been tramping the district for miles around in search of employment, without any success, ashamed to return to Woodstock, where he is well-known, to be a disgrace to his relations."

"On Saturday, he heard I wanted a waggoner, so he waited about the place till he could see me, which was on Monday. I believe he slept two nights in the cattle shed in Brimley meadow, and I'm certain he's been half starved."

"Oh, how terrible!" cried Rose.

Whilst Mavis, a little paler than usual, glanced at her aunt, who was listening with an impatient frown on her forehead.

"This cold, frosty weather, too!" exclaimed Bob. "To think of us all with plenty to eat, a fire to warm ourselves by, and comfortable beds to lie on, and some one close to our house in that old tumble-down shed!"

"You must look over my stock of clothes, Lizzie," said the miller, "and see if I can't spare the poor fellow a suit. You don't approve of my having engaged him to work for me, I see."

"How can I approve of your befriending a man of that class? Do you expect a poacher to be honest? He'll rob you for a certainty."

"I trust not; but if he does, I shall get rid of him at once. And at any rate, I shall have given him a chance to redeem his character. I've written to his late master, who informs me that Richard Butt is a strong, willing young fellow, and that he believes he took to poaching for the love of sport. I don't know about that, I'm sure; but I don't fancy he'll attempt anything of that kind again. Mind you, I'm not making excuses for him. As I've told him, a man who poaches a rabbit is as much a thief as a man who robs a poultry-yard, the principle is the same. But I can't help being sorry for him, and I wouldn't have it on my conscience for anything that I might have assisted a fellow-creature and hadn't done it. It's the right thing, I take it, to give a helping hand where one can."

"Perhaps God sent him to you on purpose, Uncle John," said Mavis; "because you could give him work, I mean."