“Well,” said the lady to her gardener, “show me how much is a fair day’s work for a boy of his age.”
“Come at six o’clock and go at six? why, about this much, ma’am,” said the gardener, marking off a piece of the border with his spade.
“Then, little boy,” said the lady, “so much shall be your task every day. The gardener will mark it off for you; and when you’ve done, the rest of the day you may do what you please.”
Jem was extremely glad of this; and the next day he had finished his task by four o’clock; so that he had all the rest of the evening to himself. He was as fond of play as any little boy could be; and when he was at it he played with all the eagerness and gaiety imaginable; so as soon as he had finished his task, fed Lightfoot, and put by the sixpence he had earned that day, he ran to the playground in the village, where he found a party of boys playing, and amongst them Lazy Lawrence, who indeed was not playing, but lounging upon a gate, with his thumb in his mouth. The rest were playing at cricket. Jem joined them, and was the merriest and most active amongst them; till, at last, when quite out of breath with running, he was obliged to give up to rest himself, and sat down upon the stile, close to the gate on which Lazy Lawrence was swinging.
“And why don’t you play, Lawrence?” said he.
“I’m tired,” said Lawrence.
“Tired of what?”
“I don’t know well what tires me; grandmother says I’m ill, and I must take something—I don’t know what ails me.”
“Oh, pugh! take a good race—one, two, three, and away—and you’ll find yourself as well as ever. Come, run—one, two, three, and away.”
“Ah, no, I can’t run, indeed,” said he, hanging back heavily; “you know I can play all day long if I like it, so I don’t mind play as you do, who have only one hour for it.”