Making Things Right

"Are they, sir?" I said.

"That they are, my boy. If you want a delicious pear don't pick out the
great shapely ones, but those that are screwed all on one side and
covered with rusty spots. The same with the plums and apples. They are
almost always to be depended upon."

I had finished my mouthful of apple, and thrust the fruit in my jacket
pocket.

"It is often the same with people in this life, my boy. Many of the
plain-looking, shabby folks are very beautiful everywhere but outside.
There's a moral lesson for you. Save it up."

I said I would, and looked at him sidewise, hesitating, for I wanted to
speak to him. I was wondering, too, whether he knew that I had been
fighting with Shock, for my hands were very dirty and my knuckles were
cut.

He did not speak any more, but stooped and took up one of the cats, to
stroke it and let it get up on his shoulder, and we had nearly reached
the house before I burst out desperately: "If you please, Mr Brownsmith--"

Then I stopped short and stared at him helplessly, for the words seemed
to stick in my throat.

"Well," he said, "what is it? Want to speak to me?"

"Yes, sir," I burst out; "I want to tell you that I--that I broke--"

"The ladder, eh?" he said smiling. "That's right, Grant; always speak
out when you have had an accident of any kind. Nothing like being
frank. It's honest and gives people confidence in you. Yes, I know all
about the ladder. I was coming to see if you wanted it moved when I saw
you overcome by it. Did Ike trim off that branch?"