"Yes, Mr Jack, sir," said Edward, who had overheard his master's remarks, "and so do I like it; but it's a sort of country where you feel as if you would like to have a great deal of nothing to do, and lie about on the sand like the niggers. I've just been watching 'em, and it seems to me that they don't eat much, nor drink much. You see 'em nibbling a few dates, or swallowing lumps of great green pumpkins." "Melons, Ned," said Jack, correcting him. "Melons, sir? Yes, I know they call 'em melons, but they're not a bit better than an old pumpkin at home, or an old vegetable marrow gone to seed. I know what a melon is, same as Mackay grows at home, red-fleshed and green-fleshed, and netted. They're something like; but as for these--have you tried one, sir?" "No." "Then you take my advice, sir. Just you don't try 'em, for they're about the poorest, moshiest-poshiest things you ever tasted." "But the people here seem to like them." "Oh yes, they like 'em, sir. They seem as if they'd eat anything, and I suppose that's why their skins are so black. But, as I was saying, they don't seem to want beef, or mutton, or pickled pork, and yet they get fat. It's the sunshine, I believe. They go on swallowing that all day long. I mean to try how it acts as soon as I get a good chance." "You're quite lazy enough without doing that," said Jack, laughing. "Now I do call that 'ard, Mr Jack, sir--reg'lar out an' out hard. I'm sure I never neglects anything. You don't want, nor Sir John neither, anything like so much valeting as you do at home. There's no boots to brush, nor clothes neither. I'm sure, sir, I never neglected you, only just for that little bit when I seemed to be standing on my head because my legs wouldn't hold me up--now, have I, sir?" "Oh no. You've always been very attentive, Ned." "Then that's why I call it 'ard, sir. Ever since you've been growing sharp and quick, and wanting to do something else besides read, you've been getting 'arder to me, sir, and I don't like it." "Oh, nonsense. I've only laughed at you sometimes." "Well, sir, look at that. You never used to laugh at me at home, nor you usen't to order me about, nor you usen't to--well, you never used to do nothing, sir, but read." Jack frowned, and reddened a little. "I put out your clothes and boots for you, and you put 'em on--just what I liked to put for you. You used to get up when I called you, and you'd have eat anything that was put before you, and said nothing. While now you're getting particular about your food even, and you order me about-- and I won't say bully me, because it ain't quite true; but you've said lots o' sharp things to me, and I feel 'mazed like sometimes to hear you, for it don't sound like you at all. It's just as if you'd got yourself changed, sir." "Perhaps I have, Ned, for I feel changed," said the boy. "Yes, sir, you are changed a lot, and I hope it's right." "I hope so, Ned," said Jack, and he walked away.