presently, he supposed, and fruit-picking, and small jobs on farms. He
would just go along and see what happened. Besides there were always
casual wards, weren't there? if the worst came to the worst; and he'd
meet other men, he supposed, who'd put him in the way of things. Oh!
he'd get on all right.

Would he ever come to Barham? Well, if it came in the day's work he
would. Yes: certainly he'd be most obliged if his letters might be sent
there, and he could write for them when he wanted, or even call for
them, if, as he said, it came in the day's work.

What was he going to do in the winter? He hadn't the slightest idea. He
supposed, what other people did in the winter. Perhaps he'd have got a
place by then--gamekeeper, perhaps--he'd like to be a gamekeeper.

At this Jack, mentally, threw up the sponge.

"You really mean to go on at this rotten idea of yours?"

Frank opened his eyes wide.

"Why, of course. Good Lord! did you think I was bluffing?"

"But ... but it's perfectly mad. Why on earth don't you get a proper
situation somewhere--land-agent or something?"

"My dear man," said Frank, "if you will have it, it's because I want to
do exactly what I'm going to do. No--I'm being perfectly serious. I've
thought for ages that we're all wrong somehow. We're all so beastly
artificial. I don't want to preach, but I want to test things for