"Not to-day. I've been waiting to see you, Buck."
"What for?"
"I left off work yesterday."
"What's up?"
"I wanted to see you, Buck."
He talked and acted very strangely, and I was sure something unusual had happened. He lived with a farmer by the name of Barkspear, who had the reputation of being the stingiest man in Torrentville, if not in the county. Sim was a great, stout, bow-legged fellow, as good-natured as the day was long. He always looked as though he had recently escaped from the rag-bag, with its odds and ends sticking to him. Though he always looked fat and hearty, he frequently complained that he could not get enough to eat at Barkspear's.
"What's the matter, Sim? Why don't you tell me what has happened?" I continued.
"I wanted to see you, Buck," he repeated, for the fourth time.
"What do you want to see me for?"
"Well, I thought I wanted to see you," said he, fumbling his fingers together, and looking into the water, instead of in my face.