"
Jim's method of beginning at home was not in the literal sense of the
proverb. It turned out that he had been neighbouring to some purpose.
Old Simpson could not move himself about indoors or attend to his work
without, and Jim, who had not before this attached himself by regular
employment, had by some freak of good-nature given his services day by
day until Caius should return, and had become an indispensable member of
the household.
"He's not a very respectable young man," said the mother apologetically
to her son, while she was still wiping her tears of joy; "but it's just
wonderful what patience he's had in his own larky way with your father,
when, though I say it who shouldn't, your father's been as difficult to
manage as a crying baby, and Jim, he just makes his jokes when anyone
else would have been affronted, and there's father laughing in spite of
himself sometimes. So I don't know how it is, but we've just had him to
stop on, for he's took to the farm wonderful."
An hour after, when alone with his father, Simpson said to him:
"Your mother, you know, was timorous at night when I couldn't help
myself; and then she'd begin crying, as women will, saying as she knew
you were dead, and that, any way, it was lonesome without you. So when
I saw that it comforted her a bit to have someone to cook for, I
encouraged the fellow.
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