I had finished my mouthful of apple, and thrust the fruit in my jacket pocket.
“It is often the same with people in this life, my boy. Many of the plain-looking, shabby folks are very beautiful everywhere but outside. There’s a moral lesson for you. Save it up.”
I said I would, and looked at him sidewise, hesitating, for I wanted to speak to him. I was wondering, too, whether he knew that I had been fighting with Shock, for my hands were very dirty and my knuckles were cut.
He did not speak any more, but stooped and took up one of the cats, to stroke it and let it get up on his shoulder, and we had nearly reached the house before I burst out desperately:
“If you please, Mr Brownsmith—”
Then I stopped short and stared at him helplessly, for the words seemed to stick in my throat.
“Well,” he said, “what is it? Want to speak to me?”
“Yes, sir,” I burst out; “I want to tell you that I—that I broke—”
“The ladder, eh?” he said smiling. “That’s right, Grant; always speak out when you have had an accident of any kind. Nothing like being frank. It’s honest and gives people confidence in you. Yes, I know all about the ladder. I was coming to see if you wanted it moved when I saw you overcome by it. Did Ike trim off that branch?”
“Yes, sir,” I cried hastily. “I’m very sorry, sir. I did not know that—”