'ad a settled conviction that if ever
they begun to put up another 'ouse on that there rock, you would 'ave
your finger in it! And now it'll be the old story over again: out in
all weathers, gettin' yer limbs bruised, if yer neck ain't broke; comin'
'ome like a drownded rat, no regular hours or meals! Oh John, John!"
Mrs Potter stopped at this point to recover breath and make up her mind
whether to storm or weep. Heaving a deep sigh she did neither, but went
on with her supper in sad silence.
"Don't take on like that, duckey," said John, stretching his long arm
across the table and patting his wife's shoulder. "It won't be so bad
as that comes to, and it will bring steady work, besides lots o' money."
"Go on with the story, faither," said Tommy, through a potato, while his
eyes glittered with excitement.
"It ain't a story, lad. However, to make it short I may come to the
pint at once. Isaac got engaged himself and mentioned my name to Mr
Rudyerd, who took the trouble to ferret me out in the docks and--and in
fact engaged me for the work, which is to begin next week."
"Capital!" exclaimed Tommy. "Oh, how I wish I was old enough to go
too!"
"Time enough, lad: every dog shall have his day, as the proverb says."
Mrs Potter said nothing, but sighed, and sought comfort in another cup
of tea.
Meanwhile John continued his talk in an easy, off hand sort of way,
between bite.
"This Mr Rudyerd, you must know (pass the loaf, Tommy: thank 'ee), is a
Cornish man--and fine, straightforward, go-ahead fellows them Cornish
men are, though I'm not one myself. Ah, you needn't turn up your pretty
nose, Mrs Potter; I would rather have bin born in Cornwall than any
other county in England, if I'd had my choice. Howsever, that ain't
possible now. Well, it seems that Mr Rudyerd is a remarkable sort of
man. He came of poor an' dishonest parents, from whom he runned away in
his young days, an' got employed by a Plymouth gentleman, who became a
true father to him, and got him a good edication in readin', writin',
an' mathematics. Ah, Tommy, my son, many a time have I had cause for to
regret that nobody gave me a good edication!"
"Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed Mrs Potter, rousing up at this. "You've got
edication enough for your station in life, and a deal more than most men
in the same trade. You oughtn't for to undervally yourself, John. I'd
back you against all your acquaintance in the matter of edication, I
would
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