"Boys don't think enough about their mothers--some boys don't," he went
on. "I didn't, till she was took away. You did--stopped with her a
deal."
"I'm afraid,"--I began.
"I'm not," he said, interrupting me hastily. "I notice a deal--weather,
and people, and children, and boys, and things growing. Want sun
badly--don't we?"
"Yes, sir," I said; and I looked up in his florid face, with its bushy
white whiskers; and then I looked at his great bulging pockets, and next
down lower at his black legs, which the cats were turning into
rubbing-posts; and as they served me the same in the most friendly
manner I began wondering whether he ever brushed his black trousers, and
thought of what a job I should have to get all the cats' hairs off mine.
For there they all were, quite a little troop, arching their backs and
purring, sticking their tails straight up, and every now and then giving
their ends a flick.
They were so friendly in their rubbings against me that I did not like
to refuse to accept their salutes; but it seemed to me as if only the
light-coloured hairs came off, and in a short time I was furry from the
knees of my black trousers down to my boots.
There was something, too, of welcome in their ways that was pleasant to
me in my desolate position, for just then I seemed as if I had not one
friend in the world; and even Mr Brownsmith seemed strange and cold,
and as if he would be very glad when I was gone and he could get along
with his work.
"There, there," he cried suddenly, "we mustn't fret about it, you know.
It's what we must all come to, and I don't hold with people making it
out dreadful. It's very sad, boy, so it is. Dull weather too. When
all my trees and plants die off for the winter, we don't call that
dreadful, because we know they'll all bud and leaf and blossom again
after their long sleep; and so it is with them as has gone away. There,
there, there, you must try to be a man."
"Yes, sir," I said; "I am trying very hard."
"That's the way," he cried; "that's the way;" and he clapped me on the
shoulder. "To be sure it is hard work, though, when you are on'y twelve
or thirteen years old."
"Yes, sir."
"But look here, boy, there's a tremendous deal done by a lad who makes
up his mind to try; do you see?"
"Yes sir, I see," I said, looking at him wonderingly, for he did not
seem to want to get rid of me now, as he was holding me tightly by the
arm.
"'Member coming for the strawberries?" he said drily.
"Yes, sir."
"Thought me a disagreeable old fellow, didn't you then?"