“He must learn some day, and he can't begin too soon. I see already he's a born coachman,” said his father proudly. “And I don't see well how he could escape it, for my father and my grandfather, that's his great-grandfather, was all coachmen, I'm told; so it must come natural to him, any one would think. Besides, you see, old Diamond's as proud of him as we are our own selves, wife. Don't you see how he's turning round his ears, with the mouths of them open, for the first word he speaks to tumble in? He's too well bred to turn his head, you know.”
“Well, but, husband, I can't do without him to-day. Everything's got to be done, you know. It's my first day here. And there's that baby!”
“Bless you, wife! I never meant to take him away—only to the bottom of Endell Street. He can watch his way back.”
“No thank you, father; not to-day,” said Diamond. “Mother wants me. Perhaps she'll let me go another day.”
“Very well, my man,” said his father, and took the reins which Diamond was holding out to him.
Diamond got down, a little disappointed of course, and went with his mother, who was too pleased to speak. She only took hold of his hand as tight as if she had been afraid of his running away instead of glad that he would not leave her.
Now, although they did not know it, the owner of the stables, the same man who had sold the horse to his father, had been standing just inside one of the stable-doors, with his hands in his pockets, and had heard and seen all that passed; and from that day John Stonecrop took a great fancy to the little boy. And this was the beginning of what came of it.
The same evening, just as Diamond was feeling tired of the day's work, and wishing his father would come home, Mr. Stonecrop knocked at the door. His mother went and opened it.
“Good evening, ma'am,” said he. “Is the little master in?”
“Yes, to be sure he is—at your service, I'm sure, Mr. Stonecrop,” said his mother.