Warm milk! What could be more delicious? Rupert sipped the sweet fluid.
How it invigorated him and surcharged him with new life. And given by
such hands, with such a smile! It was a glimpse of past glories.

In the morning Rupert was asked if he wanted a job.

"Yes," was the answer.

"Can you work on a farm?"

"I've been a farmer all my life," was the reply. "I'm not a tramp, as
you understand that term."

"Well, stay around today and I'll see what I can do. I want some help,
but I cannot pay high wages."

"Never mind the wages," said Rupert, "we'll agree on that after a
while."

The young farmer saw that he had no common tramp to deal with, although
he looked rough and travel-stained.

"I have been sick for the past few days," explained Rupert, "and if you
can trust me, I should like to rest up a bit before I go to work. I'm
too weak to do you much good yet."

"That'll be all right," was the answer. "I see you need something to eat
this morning, even if you weren't hungry last night. Come with me to the
house."