“Yes,” said Beechnut, “they can go of errands, but there are not many errands to be done, so they are brought up in idleness. Country boys, on the other hand, generally have a great deal to do. They have to go for the cows, and catch the horses, and drive oxen, and a thousand other things, and so they are brought up in industry.”
“Is Phonny brought up in industry?” asked Stuyvesant.
“Hardly,” said Beechnut. “In fact he is scarcely old enough yet to do much work.”
“He is as old as I am,” said Stuyvesant.
“True,” said Beechnut, “but he does not seem to have as much discretion. Do you see that long shed out there, projecting from the barn?”
This was said just at the time when Beechnut and Stuyvesant were passing through the gate which led into the yard, and the barns and sheds were just coming into view.
“The one with that square hole by the side of the door?” asked Stuyvesant.
“Yes,” said Beechnut, “that was Phonny’s hen house. He bought some hens, and was going to be a great poulterer. He was going to have I don’t know how many eggs and chickens,—but finally he got tired of his brood, and neglected them, and at last wanted to sell them to me. I bought them day before yesterday.”
“How many hens are there?” asked Stuyvesant.
“About a dozen,” said Beechnut. “I gave him a dollar and a half for the whole stock. I looked into his hen-house when I bought him out, and found it all in sad condition. I have not had time to put it in order yet.”