"We will have a cup of tea first," said his entertainer, "the girl will bring the milk in a minute; and, though I can do without most luxuries, I cannot do without tea. It is the only thing that goes into the mouth which may be considered a luxury of the mind. It is wonderful how it clears a man's head, and gives him a command over his intellect. If I want to solve a problem, or translate a stiff passage, I must have my cup of tea. The Chinese must be a wise people to grow such a herb." The wayfarer smiled. "You are a strange sort of person," he said; "and, I suppose, are of a better rank and station than your appearance betokens." "I am the son of the blacksmith's daughter," replied the man, simply; "I can shoe a horse or forge a bar with any man in the country. That I learned from my grandfather. I can shoot a buck or bring down a snipe nineteen times out of twenty. That I learned from the head keeper. I know as much of gardening and botany as the old gardener did, who is now himself a compost, poor man; and I know somewhat more of mathematics, and Latin, and Greek, than the master of the grammar-school, who taught me; but yet I am nothing but the son of the blacksmith's daughter; and I wish to be nothing more." "But what is your profession or trade?" asked his guest, with apparent interest. "Profession, I have none," was the man's answer, pouring some water into the tea-pot. "They wished to make a parson of me, I believe; but my wishes did not go with theirs. I liked hammering iron, or shooting deer, or planting flowers and trees a great deal better. I was neither fond of preaching nor being preached to; and, therefore, I studied when I liked, wandered where I liked, read, shot, planted, worked at the forge when I liked. I do believe, from all that I have seen in the world, there has never been a man on earth who did as much what he liked as I have done--except Adam, who had only one thing forbidden him, and did that too. Now, however, I suppose the change is to come--for a change always comes sooner or later in every man's fate. One might as well expect to see four and twenty hours of sunshine as a life without a change--and I suppose I must buckle to some business; for, though I eat little, and drink little, and sleep little, yet that little must be had." "But why should you not go on as you have hitherto done?" inquired the other. "Has anything happened to deprive you of your means?"