on the other gardeners, he'd have all the county prizes
thrown open to the cottagers, that's to say, those he doesn't want
himself. He's allers for being generous with what's not his. He said as
much to me as that he wished this could be managed. He thought it would
be handy for us, and good for the poor likewise. 'That,' I says, 'would
be much the same as if a one-legged man should steal a pair of boots,
and think to make it a righteous action by giving away the one he didn't
want in charity.' As he was so fond of illustrations, I thought I'd give
him enough of them. 'Mr. Swan,' says he, rather hot, 'this here is very
plain speaking.' 'I paid for my pipe myself,' says I, 'and I shall smoke
it which side my mouth I please.' So now you know why we quarrelled,
sir. It's the talk of all the country round, and well it may be, for
there's nobody fit to hold a candle to us two, and all the other
gardeners know it."

"I'll drink the stuff now," said Johnnie. "Father, is that you?"

"Yes, my dearest boy."

"You can't think how well I feel tonight, father. Swanny, go down and
have some supper, and mind you come again."

"Ay, to be sure, Mr. Johnnie."

"You're not going to sit up tonight, my good old friend," said John,
passing into the room.

"Well, no, sir, Mr. Johnnie hev cheated the doctor to that extent that
he's not to hev anybody by him this night, the nurse is to come in and
give him a look pretty frequent, and that's all."

John came and sat by his boy, took his thin hand, and kissed him.

"It's a lark, having old Swanny," said the young invalid, "he's been
reading me a review of Mr. Brandon's book. He told Val that Smiles at
the post office had read it, and didn't think much of it, but that it
showed Mr. Brandon had a kind heart. 'And so he has,' said Swan, 'and he
couldn't hide that if he wished to. Why, he's as good as a knife that
has pared onions, sir,--everything it touches relishes of 'em.'"

"You had better not repeat that to Mr. Brandon," said John, "he is
rather touchy about his book. It has been very unfavourably reviewed."

"But Swan intended a compliment," answered Johnnie, "and he loves
onions. I often see him at his tea, eating slices of them with the bread
and butter. You are better now, dear father, are you not?"

"Yes, my boy. What made you think there was anything specially the
matter with me?"

"Oh, I knew you must be dreadfully miserable, for you could hardly take
any notice even of me.