“Very well, sir,” returned Cosmo. “I give you warning: I’m very hungry; only on the other hand, I don’t care what I have to eat.” “Look here,” said the man: “your hands look a precious sight more like loafing than work! I don’t believe your work will be worth your dinner.” “Then don’t give me any,” rejoined Cosmo, laughing. “If the proof of the pudding be in the eating, the proof of the stable must be in the cleaning. Let me see the place.” Much pondering what a fellow scouring the country with a decent coat and no money could be, the dweller in the villa led the way to his stable. In a mess that stable certainly was. “The new man is coming this evening,” said the man, “and I would rather he didn’t see things in such a state. He might think anything good enough after this! The rascal took to drink--and that, young man,” he added in a monitory tone, “is the end of all things.” “I’ll soon set the place to rights,” said Cosmo. “Let’s see--where shall I find a graip?” “A grape? what the deuce do you want with grapes in a stable?” “I forgot where I was, sir,” answered Cosmo, laughing. “I am a Scotchman, and so I call things by old-fashioned names. That is what we call a three or four-pronged fork in my country. The word comes from the same root as the German _greifen_, and our own _grip_, and _gripe_, and _grope_, and _grab_--and _grub_ too!” he added, “which in the present case is significant.” “Oh, you are a scholar--are you? Then you are either a Scotch gardener on the tramp after a situation, or a young gentleman who has made a bad use of his privileges!” “Do you found that conclusion on my having no money, or on my readiness to do the first honest piece of work that comes to my hand?” asked Cosmo, who having lighted on a tool to serve his purpose, was already at work. “--But never mind! here goes for a clean stable and a good dinner.” “How do you know your dinner will be good?” “Because I am so ready for it.” “If you’re so sharp set, I don’t mind letting you have a snack before you go further,” said his employer. “No, thank you, sir,” replied Cosmo; “I am too self-indulgent to enjoy my food before I have finished my work.” “Not a bad way of being self-indulgent, that!” said the man. “--But what puzzles me is, that a young fellow with such good principles should be going about the country like--” “Like a tinker--would you say, sir--or like Abraham of old when he had no abiding city?” “You seem to know your Bible too!--Come now, there must be some reason for your being adrift like this!” “Of course there is, sir; and if I were sure you would believe me, I would tell you enough to make you understand it.” “A cautious Scotchman!” “Yes. Whatever I told you, you would doubt; therefore I tell you nothing.” “You have been doing something wrong!” said the man.