Johnny was a big lad now (though he was scarce sixteen years of age), and Mr. Butson condescended to shake hands with him, to condole with him on the choice of the wretched trade that had so ill supported himself, and to exchange a remark or two on the engineering topics of the week. But chiefly Mr. Butson attended to the meal. Nan May had never seen two men together eat such a meal as his. Plainly he was famished. She was full of pity for this unfortunate, so well brought up (thought the simple soul), so cruelly neglected by his well-to-do relations. She cut more slices of bacon, and more, and still more of bread and butter, quietly placing them to his hand, till at last he was satisfied. Mr. Butson was refreshed, filled his pipe again from Uncle Isaac’s paper, and gave some attention to the conversation. But the conversation took to itself the property of rarely travelling far from Mr. Butson and his troubles. He had no false modesty about them. He had parted with almost all his clothes, and hadn’t a shirt to his back. His tools were in pawn, and a man felt discouraged from looking for a job when his tools were “put away,” and he had no money to redeem them. But he would starve sooner than apply to his unnatural relations; he would take the help of strangers first. When at last Mr. Butson took leave, and went shivering into the gusty night, Uncle Isaac was careful to let him go alone, and to remain, himself, in the shop parlour till his friend was clear away. But Nan May ran down the street after her departed guest. There were a few hurried words of entreaty in the woman’s voice: “Here, Mr. Butson. Do! you really must!”—and she scurried back breathless and a trifle shamefaced. She reached across the counter and shut the till ere she came into the shop parlour. Uncle Isaac Iooked up sharply in her face as she entered, but went on with his pipe. XVII. THIS visit was but the first of many from Mr. Butson: until after a very few months he came as regularly as Uncle Isaac himself. He recovered his old appearance a little at a time, one new article of clothing coming after another; but he seemed to have no luck in his quest for a job—or very little. What small success he found was ever brought to naught by the captiousness—even the rudeness—of those in direction, or their unreasonable exactions in the way of work. To simple Nan May he seemed the most shamefully ill-used of exemplars. Johnny and Bessy were less enthusiastic. Bessy said nothing, but avoided Mr. Butson as much as possible, sitting in the shop when he was in the back parlour. Johnny went for walks in the evening, and grumbled, wondering why his mother encouraged this stranger—“cadging suppers,” as he uncivilly put it. Nan May was hurt at the expression, and feared that the workshop was spoiling Johnny’s manners.