those work-day clothes. But the dirt on his face and neck was an orderly
accumulation, such as gathers on walls, oil-paintings, and other places
to which soap is not habitually applied; it was not a matter of spills
and splashes, like the dirt John Broom disgraced himself with. And his
clothes, if old, fitted neatly about him; they never suggested
raggedness, which was the normal condition of the tramp-boy's jacket.
They only looked as if he had been born (and occasionally buried) in
them. It is needful to make this distinction, that the good man may not
be accused of inconsistency in the peculiar vexation which John Broom's
disorderly appearance caused him.

In truth, Miss Betty's _protegé_ had reached the age at which he was to
"eat dreadfully, wear out his clothes, and be useful on the farm;" and
the last condition was quite unfulfilled. At eleven years old he could
not be trusted to scare birds, and at half that age the farm-bailiff's
eldest child could drive cattle.

"And no' just ruin the leedies in new coats and compliments, either,
like some ne'er-do-weels," added the farm-bailiff, who had heard with a
jealous ear of sixpences given by Miss Betty and Miss Kitty to their
wasteful favourite.

When the eleventh anniversary of John Broom's discovery was passed, and
his character at school gave no hopes of his ever qualifying himself to
serve the lawyer, it was resolved that--"idleness being the mother of
mischief," he should be put under the care of the farm-bailiff, to do
such odd jobs about the place as might be suited to his capacity and
love of out-door life. And now John Broom's troubles began. By fair
means or foul, with here an hour's weeding and there a day's bird
scaring, and with errands perpetual, the farm-bailiff contrived to "get