"A true man, and proud as a lucifer."

"You see the artfulness? Why, 'twas about being baily really; but I didn't put it so plain that she could understand my meaning, so I could lay it on all the stronger. That was my depth! ... However, let her marry an she will. Perhaps 'tis high time. I believe Farmer Boldwood kissed her behind the spear-bed at the sheep-washing t'other day -- that I do."

"What a lie!" said Gabriel.

"Ah, neighbour Oak -- how'st know?" said, Henery, mildly.

"Because she told me all that passed." said Oak, with a pharisaical sense that he was not as other shearers in this matter.

"Ye have a right to believe it." said Henery, with dudgeon; "a very true right. But I mid see a little distance into things! To be long-headed enough for a baily's place is a poor mere trifle -- yet a trifle more than nothing. However, I look round upon life quite cool.

Do you heed me, neighbours? My words, though made as simple as I can, mid be rather deep for some heads."

"O yes, Henery, we quite heed ye."

"A strange old piece, goodmen -- whirled about from here to yonder, as if I were nothing! A little warped, too. But I have my depths; ha, and even my great depths! I might gird at a certain shepherd, brain to brain. But no -- O no!"

"A strange old piece, ye say!" interposed the maltster, in a querulous voice. "At the same time ye be no old man worth naming -- no old man at all. Yer teeth bain't half gone yet; and what's a old man's standing if se be his teeth bain't gone? Weren't I stale in wedlock afore ye were out of arms? 'Tis a poor thing to be sixty, when there's people far past four-score -- a boast'weak as water."

It was the unvaying custom in Weatherbury to sink minor differences when the maltster had to be pacified.

"Weak as-water! yes." said Jan Coggan.- "Malter, we feel ye to be a wonderful veteran man, and nobody can gainsay it."

"Nobody." said Joseph Poorgrass. "Ye be a very rare old spectacle, malter, and we all admire ye for that gift. "

"Ay, and as a young man, when my senses were in prosperity, I was likewise liked by a good-few who knowed me." said the maltster.

"'Ithout doubt you was -- 'ithout doubt."

The bent and hoary 'man was satisfied, and so apparently was Henery Frag. That matters should continue pleasant Maryann spoke, who, what with her brown complexion, and the working wrapper of rusty linsey, had at present the mellow hue of an old sketch in oils -- notably some of Nicholas Poussin's: -"Do anybody know of a crooked man, or a lame, or any second-hand fellow at all that would do for poor me?" said Maryann. "A perfect one I don't expect to at my time of life. If I could hear of such a thing twould do me more good than toast and ale."




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