The following morning, as he was coming down stairs, he was met by Alfred,
who accosted him with, "Oh! you're up, are you; I was just going to call
you." And looking at Charlie from head to foot, he inquired, "Is that your
best suit?"
"No, it's my worst," replied Charlie. "I have two suits better than this;"
and thinking that Mrs. Bird had arrived, he continued, "I'll put on my best
if Mrs. Bird wants me."
"No, she ain't home," was the reply; "it's me that wants you; come down
here; I've got a little job for you. Take this," said he, handing him a
dirty tow apron, "and tie it around your neck; it will keep the blacking
off your clothes, you know. Now," continued he, "I want you to clean these
boots; these two pairs are Mr. Tyndall's--them you need not be particular
with; but this pair is mine, and I want 'em polished up high,--now mind, I
tell you. I'm going to wear a new pair of pants to meetin' to-morrow, and I
expect to cut a dash, so you'll do 'em up slick, now won't you?"
"I'll do my best," said Charlie, who, although he did not dislike work,
could not relish the idea of cleaning the servants' boots. "I'm afraid I
shall find this a queer place," thought he. "I shall not like living here,
I know--wait for my meals until the servants have finished, and clean their
boots into the bargain.
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