78 BRET harte's CHOICE BITS.
it, with both of his powerful arms extended down¬
ward, and said, " Ah, but it's a blessin' that Sun¬
day comes to give rest fur the wake and the weary,
and them as walks sivinteen miles to get it." Of
course I took the hint. There was evidently no
work to be had from my friend, the Tramp, that
day. Yet his countenance brightened as he saw
the limited extent of my domain, and observed
that the garden, so called, was only a flower bed
about twenty-five feet by ten. As he had doubtless
before this been utilised, to the extent of his ca¬
pacity, in digging, he had probably expected that
kind of work; and I daresay I discomfited him by
pointing him to an almost levelled stone wall, about
twenty feet long, with the remark that his work
would be the rebuilding of that stone wall, with
stone brought from the neighbouring slopes. In a
few moments he was comfortably provided for in
the kitchen, where the cook, a woman of his own na¬
tionality, apparently "chaffed" him with a raillery
that was to me quite unintelligible. Yet I noticed
that when, at sunset, he accompanied Bridget to
the spring for water, ostentatiously flourishing the
empty bucket in his hand, when they returned in
the gloaming, Bridget was carrying the water, and
my friend, the Tramp, was some paces behind
her, cheerfully " colloguing," and picking black¬
berries.
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