Brother Solomon

The new-comer went slowly up the ladder, looked at my work, and then
took out a small knife with a flat ivory handle, came down again,
stropped the knife on his boot, went up, and pared my stump just round
the edge, taking off a very thin smooth piece of bark.

"Good!" he said as he wiped his knife, came down, and put the knife
away; "but your knife wanted a touch on a bit o' Turkey-stone. How are
you, Ezra?"

Old Brownsmith set down some cats gently, got up off the bushel basket
slowly, and shook hands.

"Fairly, Solomon, fairly; and how are you?"

"Tidy," said the visitor, "tidy;" and he stared very hard at me. "This
is him, is it?"

"Yes, this is he, Solomon. Grant, my lad, this is my brother Solomon."

I bowed after the old fashion taught at home.

"Shake hands. How are you?" said Mr Solomon; and I shook hands with
him and said I was quite well, I thanked him; and he said, "Hah!"

"He has just come up from Hampton, Grant--from Sir Francis Linton's.
He's going to take you back."

"Take me back, sir!" I said wonderingly. "Have--have I done anything
you don't like?"

"No, my lad, no--only I've taught you all I can; and now you will go
with him and learn gardening under glass--to grow peaches, and grapes,
and mushrooms, and all kinds of choice flowers."

I looked at him in a troubled way, and he hastened to add: "A fine opportunity for you, my boy. Brother Solomon is a very famous
gardener and takes prizes at the shows."