“No, sir.”
“Well, don’t.”
“I will not if you don’t wish it, sir,” I said eagerly.
“Be kind to him, and keep him in his place. Hasn’t been rough to you, has he?”
“Oh no!” I said. “He only seems disposed to play tricks.”
“Yes, like a monkey. Rum fellow, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir. He isn’t—”
“Bit of an idiot, eh? Oh no! he’s sharp enough. I let him do as he likes for the present. Awkward boy to manage.”
“Is he, sir?”
“Yes, my lad. Ike found him under the horses’ hoofs one night, going up to market. Little fellow had crawled out into the road. Left in the ditch by some one or another. Ike put him in a half-sieve basket with some hay, and fixed him in with some sticks same as we cover fruit, and he curled up and went to sleep till Ike brought him in to me in the yard.”