"A strong, capable boy like you could give me all the help I need."

"I expect I could," said Ben demurely.

"I was sayin' to Mrs. Pitkin this mornin' that I thought it would be
a good plan to take you till you was twenty-one."

"What did she say?" asked Ben, interested.

"Waal, she didn't say much," answered the deacon slowly; "but I
guess she hasn't no objections."

"Didn't she say that I had an awful appetite?" asked Ben, smiling.

"She said you was pretty hearty," answered the deacon, rather
surprised at Ben's penetration. "Boys should curb their appetites."

"I don't think I could curb mine," said Ben thoughtfully.

"I guess there wouldn't be any trouble about that," returned the
deacon, whose meanness ran in a different channel from his wife's,
and who took less note of what was eaten at his table. "Ef you think
you'd like to engage, and we could make a bargain, you might begin
next week."

"Jest so," said Ben.

The deacon looked at him rather sharply, but Ben didn't appear to
intend any disrespect in repeating his favorite phrase.