"Any one could go by day.
It's some night's the time.

Ah! it is a pity, much as you've got to learn too.

There's the riding up with the stars over your heads, and the bumping of the cart, and the bumping and rattle of other carts, as you can hear a mile away on a still night before and behind you, and then the getting on to the stones." "On to the stones, Ike ?" I said.
"Yes, of course, on to the paving-stones, and the getting into the market and finding a good pitch, and the selling off in the morning.
Ah! it would be a treat for you, my lad.

I'm sorry for yer." Ike's sorrow lasted, and I grew quite uneasy at last through being looked down upon with so much contempt; but, as is often the case, I had leave when I least expected it.
We had been very busy cutting, bunching, and packing flowers one day, when all at once Old Brownsmith came and looked at my slate with the total of the flower baskets set down side by side with the tale of the strawberry baskets, for it was in the height of the season.
"Big load to-night, Grant," the old gentleman said.
"Yes, sir; largest load you've sent up this year," I replied, in all my newly-fledged importance as a young clerk.
"You had better go up with Ike to-night, Grant," said the old man suddenly.

"You are big enough now, and a night out won't hurt you.
Here, Ike!" "Yes, master." "You'll want a little help to-morrow morning to stand by you in the market.