But wait a bit, I'll talk to my brother one of these days." Time glided on, and as I grew bigger and stronger I used now and then to go up with Ike to the market.

He would have liked me to go every time, but Mr Brownsmith shook his head, and would only hear of it in times of emergency.
"Not a good task for you, Grant," he used to say.

"I want you at home." We were down the garden one morning after a very stormy night, when the wind had been so high that a great many of the fruit-trees had had their branches broken off, and we were busy with ladder, saw, and knife, repairing damages.
I was up the ladder in a fine young apple-tree, whose branch had been broken and was hanging by a few fibres, and as soon as I had fixed myself pretty safely I began to cut, while when I glanced down to see if Old Brownsmith was taking any notice I saw that he was smiling.
"Won't do--won't do, Grant," he said.

"Cutting off a branch of a tree that has been broken is like practising amputation on a man.

Cut lower, boy." "But I wanted to save all that great piece with those little boughs," I said.
"But you can't, my lad.