by wasting his affection on
you, when you only think him a great pug-looking creature that you'd
be ashamed to be seen with?"

"Yes, I don't care for him," she said still more off-handedly; "but he
doesn't look so queer now I've got used to him. I suppose any one who
liked him wouldn't think him such a horror."

"No; I for one think him handsome."

"Handsome?"

"Yes, _handsome_."

"Well, I'll go to bed after that and think how some people's tastes
differ."

"Well, take care you don't think about Ernest."

"Thank you; I don't want the nightmare," she retorted, tossing her
head.

THIRTEEN.

VARIOUS EVENTS.

The following day was eventful. To begin with, after Andrew had
discharged his early morning duties, he was to appear before his
grandma for the execution of the sentence she had passed upon him the
night before. I was assisting him to dry the parts of the
cream-separator, a task which had become chronic with me, when Carry
shouted from the kitchen, where she was putting in her week--

"Your grandma says not to be long; she's waiting for you."

Andrew unburdened his soul to me.

"Lord, ain't I just in for it! I'll hear how me grandma rared me since
I was born! I'm dead sick of this born and rared business. It would
give a bloke the pip. I didn't make meself born, nor want any one else
to do it; there ain't much in bein' alive," he said with that
pessimism which, like measles and whooping-cough, is indigenous to
extreme youth.

"How could I help being rared? I didn't ask 'em to rare me. I didn't
make meself a little baby that couldn't help itself, and they needn't
have rared me unless they liked. Goodness knows, I'd have rather died
like a little pup before his eyes were opened," he continued so
tragically that I took the opportunity of smiling behind his back as
he threw out the dish-water.

"Hurry up! your grannie is waiting!" called Carry once more.

"Blow you! you'll have to wait till I'm done," retorted the boy in a
tone the reverse of genial.

"People is always chuckin' at their kids how much they owe them. I'm
blowed if ever I can see it. I didn't want 'em to have me, and don't
see why it should be everlasting threw at me."

It is a wise provision that youth cannot see what it owes the previous
generation. This is a chicken that comes back to roost in heavier
years.

"I wish I had a grandma like Jack Bray's ma. He nicked over to me w'en
I was after the cows, an' Mrs Bray ain't