After that I sent him to the workhouse, where they took care of him, and one day when he got bigger I gave him a treat, and had him here for a day's holiday.

Then after a twelvemonth, I gave him another holiday, and I should have given him two a year, only he was such a young rascal.

The workhouse master said he could do nothing with him.

He couldn't make him learn anything--even his letters.

The only thing he would do well was work in the garden." "Same as he does now, sir ?" I said, for I was deeply interested.
"Same as he does now," assented Old Brownsmith.