"I don't often speak of myself," said John, "but as you are going away
from us out into the world to shift for yourself I'll just tell you how
I look on these things. I was just as old as Joseph when my father and
mother died of the fever within ten days of each other, and left me and
my cripple sister Nelly alone in the world, without a relation that we
could look to for help. I was a farmer's boy, not earning enough to keep
myself, much less both of us, and she must have gone to the workhouse
but for our mistress (Nelly calls her her angel, and she has good right
to do so). She went and hired a room for her with old Widow Mallet, and
she gave her knitting and needlework when she was able to do it; and
when she was ill she sent her dinners and many nice, comfortable things,
and was like a mother to her. Then the master he took me into the stable
under old Norman, the coachman that was then. I had my food at the house
and my bed in the loft, and a suit of clothes, and three shillings a
week, so that I could help Nelly. Then there was Norman; he might have
turned round and said at his age he could not be troubled with a raw boy
from the plow-tail, but he was like a father to me, and took no end of
pains with me. When the old man died some years after I stepped into his
place, and now of course I have top wages, and can lay by for a rainy
day or a sunny day, as it may happen, and Nelly is as happy as a bird.
So you see, James, I am not the man that should turn up his nose at a
little boy and vex a good, kind master. No, no! I shall miss you very
much, James, but we shall pull through, and there's nothing like doing a
kindness when 'tis put in your way, and I am glad I can do it."

"Then," said James, "you don't hold with that saying, 'Everybody look
after himself, and take care of number one'?"

"No, indeed," said John, "where should I and Nelly have been if master
and mistress and old Norman had only taken care of number one? Why,