"Then," said the lady, "I will give you work. Come here to-morrow morning, and my gardener will set you to weed the shrubberies, and I will pay you six-pence a day. Remember, you must be at the gates by six o'clock."
Jem bowed, thanked her, and went away.
It was late in the evening, and he was impatient to get home to feed Lightfoot, yet he recollected that he had promised the man who had trusted him to sell the fossils, that he would bring him half of what he got for them. So he thought that he had better go to him directly; and away he went, running along by the water-side about a quarter of a mile, till he came to the man's house.
He was just come home from work, and was surprised when Jem showed him the half-crown, saying, "Look what I got for the stones; you are to have half you know."
"No," said the man, when he had heard his story, "I shall not take half of that; it was given to you. I expected but a shilling at the most, and the half of that is but six-pence; and that I'll take. Wife, give the lad two shillings, and take this half-crown."
So the wife opened an old glove, and took out two shillings—and the man, as she opened the glove, put in his fingers and took out a little silver penny. "There, he shall have that into the bargain, for his honesty. Honesty is the best policy. There's a lucky penny for you, that I've kept ever since I can remember."
"Don't you ever go to part with it, do you hear?" cried the woman.
"Let him do what he will with it, wife," said the man.
"But," argued the wife, "another penny would do just as well to buy gingerbread; and that's what it will go for."
"No, that it shall not, I promise you," said Jem.