st have turned one of the trained plum-trees into a ladder, and
climbed up; and I found myself wondering whether he had knocked off any
of the young fruit.

Then, as he remained perfectly still, watching me, I began to wonder why
he should be so fond of taking every opportunity he could find to stare
at me; and then I wondered what old Brownsmith would say to him, or do,
if he came slowly up behind him and caught him climbing up his
beautifully trained trees.

Just then I heard a loud cough that I knew was old Brownsmith's, for I
had heard it dozens of times, and Shock's head disappeared as if by
magic.

I jumped up to see, for I felt sure that Shock was going to catch it,
and then I saw that old Brownsmith was not in his garden, but in the
lane on our side, and that he was close beneath the window looking up at
me.

He nodded, and I had just made up my mind that I would not complain
about Shock, when there was a loud thump of the knocker, and directly
after I heard the door open, a heavy step in the passage, the door
closed, and then the sound of old Brownsmith wiping his shoes on the big
mat.

His shoes could not have wanted wiping, for it was a very dry day, but
he kept on rub--rub--rub, till Mrs Beeton, who waited upon us as well
as let us her apartments, came upstairs, knocked at my mother's door,
and went down again.

Then there was old Brownsmith's heavy foot on the stair, and he was
shown in to where I was waiting.

"Mrs Dennison will be here directly," said our landlady, and the old
man smiled pleasantly at me.

I say old man, for he was in my eyes a very old man, though I don't
suppose he was far beyond fifty; but he was very grey, and grey hairs in
those days meant to me age.

"How do?" he said as soon as he saw me. "Being such a nigh neighbour I
thought I'd come and pay my respects."

He had a basket in his hand, and just then my mother entered, and he
turned and began backing before her on to me.

"Like taking a liberty," he said in his rough way, "but your son and
me's old friends, ma'am, and I've brought you a few strawberries before
they're over."

Before my mother could thank him he went on:

"Been no rain, you see, and the sun's ripening of 'em off so fast. A
few flowers, too, not so good as they should be, ma'am, but he said you
liked flowers."

I saw the tears stand in my mother's eyes as she thanked him warmly for
his consideration, and begged him to sit down.

But no. He wa