indeed, as his mother's brother, burly old Richard Waring of
Thornleigh, had offered to take him into his household and teach him
his work, there seemed to be no reason why he should not adopt the
career which was more to his mind.

John had frequently made expeditions into the country before, and had
spent many pleasant hours in the company of his aunt and uncle, and
their buxom daughter Jinny; but he found a vast difference between
these pleasure excursions and the steady routine to which he was now
subjected. All the household were abed at nine, an arrangement to
which John objected. As his aunt opined that it was "a sin an' a shame
to burn good lamps i' summer time when days was long enough for
onybody as was reasonable," he bought a supply of candles out of his
own meagre store, and, being fond of reading, spent an hour or two
with book or paper before retiring to rest. But the worst of this
arrangement was that when, as it appeared to him, he had just settled
comfortably to his first sleep, it was time to be astir again. His
uncle thumped at his door, his aunt, from the bottom of the stairs,
called out shrilly that if he wanted any breakfast he had best make
haste, for she was "goin' to side the things in a twothree minutes."
Jinny made sarcastic comments on his tardy appearance, and laughed at
his heavy eyes. That was the worst of it--Jinny was always laughing at
him; she "made little" of him on every possible occasion. His "town"
speech, his "finicky" ways, his state of collapse at the end of the
day, his awkwardness in handling unaccustomed tools, were to her
never-failing sources of amusement. John set his teeth and made no
sign of being wounded or annoyed, the sturdy spirit inherited from his
mother's people forbidding him to cry out when he was hurt; but his
spirits were at a low ebb, and to-day he had walked forth after tea
with a heart as sore and heavy as those over-strained arms of his.