"And when will the hay be cuttened?" inquired Ted.

"That's be as Master order, and not as Master can choose neither—no," said David. "He not able to make for the sun to shine; no, indeed; nor the rain neither,—no."

"'Dod sends rain and sun," said Ted, reverently, but yet looking at David with a sort of curiosity.

"Well, indeed you are right, Master Ted. Yes, yes. But I must get on with my work. God gives us work to do, too; ay, indeed; and them as not work never expect to eat, no, never; they not care for their victual anyhow if they not work for it. No."

Ted looked rather puzzled. "Ted eats," he said,—"not victuals—Ted doesn't know that meat—but bread and butter, and tea, and potatoes, and rice pudding, and meat, and sometimes 'tawberry jam and apple pie and—and—lots of things. And Ted likes zem very much, but him doesn't work."

"I not know for that, Master Ted," said David, "is it all kinds of work; ay, indeed; and I see you very near always busy—dear me, yes; working very good, Master Ted—ay."

"I wish thoo'd let me help thoo to cut the grass."
Click to [ENLARGE]

"I like to be busy. I wish thoo'd let me help thoo to cut the grass," said Ted, eyeing David wistfully, as he started his big scythe, for the old gardener knew nothing of mowing machines, and would most likely have looked upon them with great contempt. But he stopped short a moment to look down at wee Ted, staring up at him and wishing to be in his place.

"No, indeed, Master Ted bach!" he said; "you soon have your cliver little legs and arms cut to pieces, if you use with my scythe, Master Ted—ay, indeed, d'rectly. It look easy, to be sure, but it not so easy even for a cliver man like you, Master Ted—no, indeed. But I tell you what you shall do. You shall help to make the grass to a heaps, and then I put it in a barrow and wheel it off. Ay, indeed; that be the best."