"But," continued Mr. Fisher, without heeding his wife's remark, "I have thought for some time past that you might do better for yourself than slaving on a farm all the days of your life; and now that you've got the chance of bettering your condition, my advice is, accept it by all means, and think yourself a lucky dog for getting such an offer."
"Oh, yes, Benny," said Mrs. Fisher, "I think you had better accept Mr. Munroe's offer: such a chance does not often come twice in a lifetime; and, besides, you can still make this your home—that is, you will be able to come on a Saturday night and stay until Monday morning."
"Of course you will, Ben; I never thought of that," said Mr. Fisher. "I believe you have got into luck's way at last."
"But I have something more to tell you yet," said Benny, looking up with a smile.
"More in the way of good luck?" said Mr. Fisher.
"Well, I don't think the word luck will apply exactly, and yet what I have to tell you is to me very good news indeed."
"Well, lad, out with it: you are beating about the bush in tremendous style this morning, and no mistake."
"Oh, you are so impatient!" laughed Benny;" and I declare you look a great deal more curious than Mrs. Fisher does."
"Well, and what has that to do with it, you tantalizing young vagabond?"
