You understand me, sirrah?" "Perfectly," replied Jack. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. “Then we go on to this place, the Oeschinensee.
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