one room. In the corners against the walls were piles of sheep-skins
that had a strong and rather unpleasant smell: the thatch above was
covered with dusty cobwebs, hanging like old rags, and the clay
floor was littered with bones, sticks, and other rubbish. The only
nice thing to see was a teakettle singing and steaming away merrily
on the fire in the grate. Old Jacob set about preparing the evening
meal; and soon they sat down at a small deal table to a supper of
cold mutton and potatoes, and tea which did not taste very nice, as
it was sweetened with moist black sugar. Martin was too hungry to
turn up his nose at anything, and while he ate and drank the old man
chuckled and talked aloud to himself about his good fortune in
finding the little boy to do his work for him. After supper he
cleared the table, and put two mugs of tea on it, and then got out
his clay pipe and tobacco.

"Now, little boy," he cried, "let's have a jolly evening together.
Your very good health, little boy," and here he jingled his mug
against Martin's, and took a sip of tea.

"Would you like to hear a song, little boy?" he said, after
finishing his pipe.

"No," said Martin, who was getting sleepy; but Jacob took no to mean
yes, and so he stood up on his legs and sang this song:--


"My name is Jacob, that's my name;
And tho' I'm old, the old man's game--
The air it is so good, d'ye see:
And on the plain my flock I keep,