Why, the very fust day I tuk sarvice--I was a tiny tacker then--he says to me, 'Caleb, my boy, you'm lookin' all skin an' bones for the present, but there's no knawin' what Penhellick beef and pudden may do for 'ee yet, ef 'tes eaten wi' a thankful heart.
Hows'ever, 'bout the work.

I wants you to take the dree jackasses an' go to beach for ore-weed, an' as I likes to gie a good boy like you a vew privileges, you be busy an' carry so many seams [1] as you can, an' I'll gie drappence for ivery seam more'n twenty.' "Well, sir, I worked like a Trojan, an' ha'f killed they jackasses; an' I tell 'ee 'twas busy all to carry dree-an'-twenty seam.

In the eveling, arter work, I went to Lawyer Mennear an' axed 'n 'bout the nine-pence--I niver got ninepence so hard in all my born days.
When he paid me, he looked so sly, an' says he-- "' You'm a nation clever boy, you be, an' I doan't gridge 'ee the money.

But now I sees what you _can_ do, of cou'se I shall 'spect 'ee to carry dree-an'-twenty seam ivery day, reg'lar: for the workman,' says he, 'es worthy of hes hire.' "'Darn et!' thought I to mysel', 'this won't do;' an' I niver seed azackly the beef an' pudden th' ould man talked about.

Hows'ever, I stayed wi' the psalmas-'untin' ould cadger, tho' et made me 'most 'mazed at times to hear the way he'd carry on down at the Meetin' House 'bout the sen o' greed an' the like, an' all the time lookin' round to see who owed 'n a happeny.