“That’s very kind of you, Mr Argent. Does any one know if George has a watch?”
“I know he hasn’t,” said one of the party. “And what’s more, I’ve heard him say he wishes he had one.”
“And I can answer for it he’s been looking in at my window at this very one every day for the last month,” said the silversmith.
“Well, what do you say to getting this, then? We needn’t ask you if it’s a good one, Mr Argent.”
“No, you needn’t, sir,” replied the smiling Mr Argent, who, as I had remained run down since the day he bought me, could not well have answered the question more definitely.
“You’ll clean it up, will you, and set it going, and send it to me this afternoon?” said the curate;—“and perhaps you would like to come with us to Reader’s cottage this evening, when we are going to present it?”
Mr Argent promised to form one of the party, and the deputation then left.
I was swiftly subjected to all the cleaning and polishing which brushes, wash-leather, and whiting could give me. I was wound up and set to the right time, and a neat piece of black watered ribbon was attached to my neck, and then I waited patiently till the time came for my presentation to my new master.
The gamekeeper’s cottage to which I was conducted in state that evening was not an imposing habitation. It boasted of only three rooms, and just as many occupants. George, the hero of the occasion, was the son of its humble owner and his wife, and, as will have been gathered, had turned out a prodigy. From his earliest days he had displayed a remarkable aptitude for study. Having once learned to read at the village school, he became insatiable after books, and devoured all that came within his reach.
Happily he fell into the hands of a wise and able guide, the clergyman of the parish, who, early recognising the cleverness of the boy, strove to turn his thirst for learning into profitable channels, lent him books, explained to him what he failed to understand, incited him to thoroughness, and generally constituted himself his kind and helpful adviser.