MRS. L. Patrick, where is my son?

PATRICK. I don't know, ma'am.

MRS. L. What? You don't know?

PATRICK. No, ma'am. After taking his lessons this morning, he made me dress him three times. Yes, ma'am, three times! and by way of paying me for my trouble, he hit me a blow on the side of my head, and crying, "Take that, old bog-trotter"--he ran off laughing; and five minutes after that, when I was talking with Andrew on the edge of the hill at the back of the house, he came suddenly up behind and upset us both. My back is all but cracked.

[_Rubs his back._

MR. S. You see how he treats your servants!

MRS. L. Well! but he did it laughing. It was only his fun, dear little fellow! Patrick, go find him, and bring him here.

PATRICK. And suppose, ma'am, he won't come?

MRS. L. Tell him his _mother_ wants him.

SCENE III.--_Enter_ ANDREW.

PATRICK (_going out, to Andrew_). Where am I to find him? Have you seen him?

ANDREW. Seen who?

PATRICK. Master Ned.

ANDREW. Yes, I have seen him; I see a great deal too much of him; he has just chased me out of the garden with a hay fork.

PATRICK. Is he there now?

ANDREW. Oh yes; he tied an old hen fast by the leg to the fence, and is shooting at her with his bow and arrows.

MRS. L. What a boy! how thoughtless! Patrick, go and get him.

[_He goes out._

SCENE IV.--_Enter_ JANE.

ANDREW (_twisting his hat about, and standing first on one leg, then on the other_). Mrs. Langdon--

MRS. L. Well, Andrew, what is it?

ANDREW. I am your gardener, ma'am; am I not?

MRS. L. Yes, Andrew.

ANDREW. I have always tried to give you satisfaction?

MRS. L. Certainly. You have been very faithful.

ANDREW. You have fed me well, paid me well, and, what is far better, you are good and kind to me, which I like more than money, because the one you owe me, and the other you give me of your own free will.

MRS. L. Well, Andrew--

ANDREW. Well, Mrs. Langdon, I am going to leave you against my own desire. You are an excellent mistress, and I don't want to leave you, but it must be--

MRS. L. Andrew, I am surprised! Why do you wish to leave me? Have you anything to complain of? Have I done you any injustice?

ANDREW. Oh no, ma'am! You are all kindness and goodness; neither proud, scolding, nor brutal; _but everybody is not like you_.

MRS. L. Do the other servants impose upon you?

ANDREW. Oh dear, no, ma'am! they are good and honest.

MRS. L. What do you complain of, then?

ANDREW. Why, ma'am, since I have begun, I will go on. Every man who respects himself, takes a pride in his work. If he is a gardener, he likes to hear people say, "There is a capital garden! Those vegetable beds are very nicely kept!" Well, it makes me mad to see your money and my work all wasted and destroyed.

MRS. L. But how?

ANDREW. That's just it. I know how, and you don't.

MRS. L. Will you tell me?

ANDREW. Well, it's Master Ned.

MRS. L. Master Ned?

ANDREW. Yes, ma'am. He is a perfect little Satan; he keeps me running after him, till I am out of breath, and perfectly hoa.r.s.e with talking.

MRS. L. Why! What has he done?

ANDREW. The same he does every day: ten ground moles, fifteen chickens, twenty pigs, would do less injury in a year than he does in one day. He upsets the planks, tears up the walks, breaks the windows of the hot beds, tramples on the flowers, breaks down the pear trees, plays the mischief in the vegetable garden, and runs off with my tools. I can't stop him; and when I say, "Master Ned, you must not hinder me so in my work; if you want to turn double somersets, go and do it in your dear mamma's parlor; go and plague Mr. Sherwood, or Patrick, or, still better, torment Jane, and leave me to plant my cabbages." Do you know how he answers? By cracking me over the shoulders with his switch, and crying out, "Look out, old potato top, or I'll tumble you into the pond."

I might as well ask the river to run up hill. And look here, ma'am, see this picture (_shows picture_) he drew of me, watering the garden in a thunder storm, as if I ever did such a thing! or looked like that, either!

MR. S. In a short time, no one will be able to live with him.

MRS. L. Dear me! It is nothing but his high spirits and love of mischief! But I own you are not unreasonable, Andrew. I don't want my son to tease you, much less ill-treat you. I will forbid him, before you, from going in the garden.

ANDREW. Good! Only do that, and I will give him my finest flowers, and my best fruits, if he will only keep away.

MRS. L. (_sighing_). I seem to have made twenty excuses for my son in ten minutes; but you shall be satisfied.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Caricature Edward drew of the Gardener.]

JANE. Mrs. Langdon, I must also speak to you about Master Ned.

MRS. L. Well.