about how our great surgeons gained their first knowledge from a
gardener; and if it is not true, it might very well be."

"Yes," I said, looking at him wonderingly as he smoothed the fur of his
cats and was surrounded by them, rubbing themselves and purring loudly,
"but I did not know you could tell stories like that."

"I did not know it myself, Grant, till I began, and one word coaxed out
another. Seriously, though, my boy, there is nothing to be ashamed of
in being a gardener."

"I'm not ashamed," I said; "I like it."

"Gardeners can propagate and bring into use plants that may prove to be
of great service to man; they can improve vegetables and fruits--and
when you come to think of what a number of trees and plants are useful,
you see what a field there is to work in! Why, even a man who makes a
better cabbage or potato grow than we have had before is one who has
been of great service to his fellow-creatures. So work away; you may do
something yet."

"Yes," I cried, "I'll work away and as hard as I can; but I begin to
wish now that you had some glass."

"So do I," said the old gentleman.

"There!" I said, coming down the ladder, "I think that will heal up
now, like the poor swineherd's leg. It's as smooth as smooth."

"Let me look," said a voice behind me; and I started with surprise to
find myself face to face with a man who seemed to be Old Brownsmith when
he was, if not Young Brownsmith, just about what he would have been at
forty.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

BROTHER SOLOMON.

The new-comer went slowly up the ladder, looked at my work, and then
took out a small knife with a flat ivory handle, came down again,
stropped the knife on his boot, went up, and pared my stump just round
the edge, taking off a very thin smooth piece of bark.

"Good!" he said as he wiped his knife, came down, and put the knife
away; "but your knife wanted a touch on a bit o' Turkey-stone. How are
you, Ezra?"

Old Brownsmith set down some cats gently, got up off the bushel basket
slowly, and shook hands.

"Fairly, Solomon, fairly; and how are you?"

"Tidy," said the visitor, "tidy;" and he stared very hard at me. "This
is him, is it?"

"Yes, this is he, Solomon. Grant, my lad, this is my brother Solomon."

I bowed after the old fashion taught at home.

"Shake hands. How are you?" said Mr Solomon; and I shook hands with
him and said I was quite well, I thanked him; and he said, "Hah!"

"He has just come up fr