about the coming fair.

"What's your game, Bob?" I asked the man. "I'm not against you," I said,
"and I'm not for you. But you was blowed out of a snow storm remember, and
we've only got your word for it that you're a respectable man."

"I never said I was respectable," he answered me, "but since you ask, I'll
be plain with you, Rupert Blake. 'Tis true I was a soldier and done my
duty and fought under Lord Roberts. But I didn't like it, and hated being
wounded and was glad to quit. And after that I kept a shop of all sorts on
Salisbury Plain, till I lost all my little money. Then I took up farm
labourer's work for a good few years, and tried to get in along with the
people at a farm. But they wouldn't promise me nothing certain for my old
age, so I left them and padded the country a bit. And I liked tramping,
owing to the variety. And I found I could sing well enough to get a bed
and supper most times; and for three years I kept at it and saw my native
country: towns in winter it was, and villages in summer. I was on my way
to Plymouth when I dropped into Holne, and Mr. Churchward offered me a bob
if I'd travel to Little Sherberton. And when I arrived there, and saw how
it was, I made up my mind that it would serve my turn very nice. Then I
set out to satisfy your sister and please her every way I could, because
I'm too old now for the road, and would sooner ride than walk, and sooner
sleep in a bed than under a haystack."

"You fell into a proper soft thing," I said; but he wouldn't allow that.

"No," he answered. "'Tis a good billet; but nothing to make a fuss about.
Of course for ninety-nine men out of a hundred, it would be a godsend and
above their highest hopes or deserts; but I'm the hundredth man--a man of
very rare gifts and understanding, and full of accomplishments gathered