I did not understand it at the time, but that accident made me a very
excellent friend in the shape of Ike, the big ugly carter and packer,
for after his fashion he took me regularly under his wing, and watched
over me during the time I was at Old Brownsmith's.
I'm obliged to stop again over that way of speaking of the
market-gardener, but whenever I write "Mr Brownsmith," or "the old
gentleman," it does not seem natural. Old Brownsmith it always was, and
I should not have been surprised to have seen his letters come by the
postman directed Old Brownsmith.
Ike used to look quite pleasant when I was busy near him, and while he
taught me all he knew, nothing pleased him better than for me to call
him from his digging, or hoeing, or planting, to move a ladder, or lift
a basket, or perform some other act that was beyond my strength.
All the same, though, he had a way of not showing it.
I had been at the garden about a week when Old Brownsmith began talking
about picking some of his pippins to send to market.
"I hear they are making a good price," he said, "and I shall try a few
sieves to-morrow morning, Grant."
"Yes, sir," I said, for the sound of apple-picking was pleasant.
"I suppose if I were to send you up one of the apple trees with a
basket, you would throw yourself out and break one of your limbs."
"Oh no, sir!" I said. "I could climb one of the trees and pick the
apples without doing that."
"Thank you," he replied; "that's not the way to pick my apples. Why,
don't you know that the fruit does not grow in the middle of a tree, but
round the outside, where the sun and wind can get at the blossom?"
"I didn't know it," I said rather ruefully. "I seem to be very
ignorant. I wish I had been more to school."
"They wouldn't have taught you that at school, my lad," he said smiling.
"Why, of course you did not know it. I didn't know such things when I
was your age. Look here. You must have a ladder put for you against a
tree, and take a basket with a hook to the handle. There, I'll show
you; but you are sure you will not tumble?"
"I'll take care, sir," I said. "I'll be very careful."
It was a sunny morning, and leading the way, Old Brownsmith went out to
where Ike was busy putting in plants with a dibber, striding over a
stretched-out line, making holes, thrusting in one of the plants he held
in his left hand, and with one thrust or two of the dibber surrounding
it with the soft moist earth.