“My uncle Frederick said that I must make up my mind to go somewhere and earn my own living.”
“That’s a nice prospect.”
“Yes, sir.”
He was silent for a moment or two, and then smiled.
“Well, you’re right,” he said. “It is a nice prospect, though you and I were thinking different things. I like a boy to make up his mind to earn his living when he is called upon to do it. Makes him busy and self-reliant—makes a man of him. Did he say how?”
“Who, sir—my uncle Frederick?”
“Yes.”
“No, sir, he only said that I must wait.”
“Like I have to wait for the sun to ripen my fruit, eh? Ah, but I don’t like that. If the sun don’t come I pick it, and store it under cover to ripen as well as it will.”
I looked at him wonderingly.