Читать книгу The Young Pilgrim: A Tale Illustrative of "The Pilgrim's Progress" онлайн

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“I say, Mark Dowley,” he called in a loud, hearty voice, “you are just the lad I was looking for!”

“Did you want me?” said Mark, raising his eyes.

“Do you know Mr. Ewart?” cried the farmer; and on Mark’s shaking his head, continued, “why, he was talking to me about you yesterday—a clergyman, a tall man with a stoop—he who is tutor to Lord Fontonore.”

“Oh, yes!” cried Mark, springing up, “but I did not know his name. What could he be saying of me?”

“He stopped at my farm on his drive home yesterday, and asked me if I knew a lad called Mark Dowley, and what sort of character he bore. Says I,” continued the farmer, with a broad smile on his jovial face, “I know nothing against that boy in particular, but he comes of a precious bad lot!”

“And what did he reply?” cried Mark, eagerly.

“Oh, a great deal that I can’t undertake to repeat, about taking you out of temptation, and putting you in an honest way; so the upshot of it is that I agreed to give you a chance, and employ you myself to take care of my sheep, to see if anything respectable can be made of you.”