He is a beggar, isn't he, old Solomon ?" "Well, if I was asked which of you was the young gentleman, and which the ill-bred young beggar, I should be able to say pretty right," replied the gardener slowly.
"Oh! should you?
Well, don't you bring him here again, or I'll let him know." "You'd better let him know now, boy, for he's going to stop." "What's he, the new boy ?" said the lad, as if asking a very innocent question.

"Where did you get him, Brownsmith?
Is he out of the workhouse ?" Mr Solomon smiled at the boy's malice, but he saw me wince, and he drew me to his side in an instant.

I had been thinking what a cold, hard man he was, and how different to his brother, who had been quite fatherly to me of late; but I found out now that he was, under his stern outward seeming, as good-hearted as Old Brownsmith himself.
He did not speak, but he laid one hand upon my shoulder and pressed it, and that hand seemed to say to me: "Don't take any notice of the little-minded, contemptible, spoiled cub;" and I drew a deep breath and began to feel that perhaps after all I should not want to go away.
"I thought so," cried the boy with a snigger--"he's a pauper then.

Ha, ha, ha! a pauper! I'll tell Courtenay.

We'll call him pauper if he stops here." "And that's just what he is going to do, Master Philip," said the head gardener, who seemed to have recovered his temper; "and that's what, thank goodness, you are not going to do.