"No, sir," I said; "but--"
"Oh, you wouldn't earn your salt as a picker," he cried. As he said
this he came on to the bed, and, bending down, seemed to sweep a hand
round the strawberry plant, gathering its leaves aside, and leaving the
berries free to be snipped off by the right finger and thumb. He kept
on bidding me pick away, but he sheared off three to my one, and at the
end of a few minutes I was holding the rhubarb leaf against my breast to
keep the fruit from falling over the side.
"There you are," he cried at last. "That do?"
"Oh, yes, sir," I said; "but--"
"That's enough," he cried sharply. "Here, hand over that sixpence.
Money's money, and you can't get on without it, youngster."
I gave him the coin, and he took it, span it up in the air, caught it,
and after dragging out a small wash-leather bag he dropped it in, gave
me a comical look as he twisted a string about the neck, tucked it in,
and replaced the bag in his pocket.
"There you are," he cried. "Small profits and quick returns. No credit
given. Toddle; and don't you come and bother me again. I'm a market
grower, my young shaver, and can't trade your fashion."
"I did not know, sir," I said, trying to look and speak with dignity,
for it was very unpleasant to be addressed so off-handedly by this man,
just as if I had been asking him a favour.
"I'm very much obliged to you," I added, for I had glanced at the bunch
of roses; and as I looked at the fresh sweet-scented beauties I thought
of how delighted my poor mother would be, and I could not help feeling
that old Brownsmith had been very generous.
Then making him rather an awkward bow, I stalked off, feeling very
small, and was some distance back towards the gate, wondering whether I
should meet "Shock," when from behind there came a loud "Hi!"
I paid no heed and went on, for it was not pleasant to be shouted at
like that by a market grower, and my dignity was a good deal touched by
the treatment I had received; but all at once there came from behind me
such a roar that I was compelled to stop, and on turning round there was
old Brownsmith trotting after me, with his cats skipping about in all
directions to avoid being trodden on and to keep up.
He was very much more red in the face now, for the colour went all down
below his cheeks and about his temples, and he was shining very much.
"Why, I didn't know you with your cap on," he cried. "Take it off. No,
you can't. I will."