"It do that," she replied. "But he must change his clothes afore he gets to that dirty work. Those are your best ones, ain't they?"
Geoff looked down at his suit. It was not his best, for he had left his Eton jackets and trousers behind him. The clothes he had on were a rough tweed suit he had had for the country; he had thought them very far from best. But now it struck him that they did look a great deal too good for feeding the pigs in.
"I've got an older pair of trousers in my bag," he said; "but this is my oldest jacket."
"He should have a rougher one," said Mrs. Eames. "I'll look out; maybe there's an old coat of George's as'd make down."
"All right," said Eames. "But you've no need of a coat at all to feed the pigs in. Whoever heard o' such a thing?"
Just then a voice was heard at the door.
"I'm here, master," it said, "fur the new boy."
"All right," said Eames; and, followed by Geoff, in his shirt-sleeves by this time, he led the way to the farmyard.
It was interesting, if only it had not been so cold. Matthew, the man, was not very communicative certainly, and it seemed to the new boy that he eyed him with some disfavour. Eames himself just gave a few short directions, and then went off with Jowett.
"Them's the stables," said Matthew, jerking his thumb towards a row of old buildings, "and them's the cow-houses," with a jerk the other way. "Old pony's with master's mare, as he drives hisself. I've nought to say to pony; it's your business. And I'll want a hand with cart-horses and plough-horses. Young folks has no call to be idle."