"Will you work for me?"
"I wouldn't mind trying it."
"I am a hard-working man. Will you work like a dog, if I'll let you try?"
"Please, sir, I'd rather work like a boy."
"Good. You shall go home with me."
And he took the boy home with him. The first thing he set him about was weeding the onion bed. It was hard work, as I know from experience. Oh, how it makes a poor fellow's back ache, to stoop down and weed onions for half a day. You must know that you can't use the hoe more than about a quarter of the time. If you could, the work would be comparatively easy and pleasant. But you can't do that. You must bend right down to the task, as if you really loved the onions, and were nursing them, as a fond mother nurses a pet child.
"Well, Fred," said the old gentleman, when the dinner horn blew its blast of invitation for the workmen to come in and pay their respects to Mrs. Marble's boiled pork and cabbage, "well, Fred, how do you like weeding onion beds?"
"Very well, sir," said the boy.
"And would you like to keep at it all the afternoon?"
"I would like to please you, sir. That's what I came here for."