"What's come to you?
Yer trousers bee all tore." "That brute of a house dog at the squire's has had hold of me," Reuben answered.

"The savage beast has had a try, a good many times; but this time he got hold, and he has bit me pretty sharp." Reuben had to keep his leg quiet for three days but, the third evening, he was well enough to go down the village to the schoolhouse.

After the lesson was over he walked for some distance up the road, for his leg was very stiff; and he thought it would be a good thing to try and walk it off, as he intended to go to work next morning.

On getting up early in the morning, however, he found it was still stiff and sore; but he thought he had better go and try to work for a bit.
"I am glad you are back again," the gardener said, when he saw him, "for there's a lot of work on hand; but I see you are still lame.
The coachman tells me it were a nasty bite." "It's pretty sore still," Reuben replied, "and I don't think I can walk about much; but I thought I might help in some other way." "Very well," the gardener said.

"There are a lot of plants which want shifting into larger pots.