“Well—­but, sir—­Stukely—­don’t take the thing to heart.  You are young—­look for’rads.  Oh, I tell you, it’s a blessed thing to be sorry for our faults, and to feel as if we wished to do better for the time to come.  I’m an older man than you, and I bid you take comfort, and trust to God for better things, and better things will come, too.  You are not so badly off now as you were this time twelvemonth.  And you know I’ll never leave you.  Don’t despond—­don’t give away.  It’s unnatural for a man to do it, and he’s lost if he does.  Oh, bless you, this is a life of suffering and sorrow, and well it is; for who wouldn’t go mad to think of leaving all his young ’uns behind him, and every thing he loves, if he wasn’t taught that there’s a quieter place above, where all shall meet agin?  You know me, my boy; I can’t talk, but I want to comfort you and cheer you up—­and so, give me your hand, old fellow, and say you won’t think of all this any more, but try and forget it, and see about settling comfortably in life.  What do you say to the advertisement?  A tutorer in a human family, to teach the languages and the sciences.  Come now, that’s right; I’m glad to see you laugh.  I suppose I don’t give the right pronunciation to the words.  Well, never mind; laugh at your old friend.  He’d rather see you laugh at him than teaze your heart about your troubles.”

Thompson would not be satisfied until I had read the advertisement, and given him my opinion of its merits.  He would not suffer me to say another word about my past misfortunes, but insisted on my looking forward cheerfully, and like a man.  The situation appeared to him just the thing for me; and after all, if I had wrangled as well as that ’ere Smithson—­(though, at the same time, wrangling seemed a very aggravating word to put into young men’s mouths at all)—­perhaps I shouldn’t have been half as happy as a quiet comfortable life would make me.  “I was cut out for a tutorer.  He was sure of it.  So he’d thank me to read the paper without another syllable.”  The advertisement, in truth, was promising.  “The advertiser, in London, desired to engage the services of a young gentleman, capable of teaching the ancient languages, and giving his pupils ‘an introduction to the sciences.’  The salary would be liberal, and the occupation with a humane family in the country, who would receive the tutor as one of themselves.  References would be required and given.”

“References would be required and given,” I repeated, after having concluded the advertisement, and put the paper down.

“Yes, that’s the only thing!” said Thompson, scratching his honest ear, like a man perplexed and driven to a corner.  “We haven’t got no references to give.  But I’ll tell you what we’ve got though.  We’ve got the papers of these freehold premises, and we’ve something like two thousand in the bank.  I’ll give ’em them, if you turns out a bad ’un.  That I’ll undertake to do, and shan’t be frightened either.  Now, you just go, and see if you can get it.  Where do you apply?”