The various village loafers sauntering beside their venerable prophet, listened to this outburst with respectful awe.

"He's meanderin'," said Bainton in a low tone to the portly proprietor of the 'Mother Huff'; "It's wonderful wot poltry there is in 'im, when 'e gives way to it!"

'Poltry' was the general term among the frequenters of the 'Mother Huff' for 'poetry.'

"Ay, ay!" replied Buggins, somewhat condescendingly, as one who bore in mind that he was addressing a creditor; "I don't understan' poltry myself, but Josey speaks fine when he has a mind to--there's no doubt of that. Look 'ee 'ere, now; there's Ipsie Frost runnin' to 'im!"

And they all turned their eyes on a flying bundle of curls, rosy cheeks, fat legs and clean pinafore, that came speeding towards old Josey, with another young feminine creature scampering after it crying: "Ipsie! Hip-po-ly-ta! Baby! Come back to your dinner!"

But Hippolyta was a person evidently accustomed to have her own way, and she ran straight up to Josey Letherbarrow as though he were the one choice hero picked out of a world.

"Zozey!" she screamed, stretching out a pair of short, mottled arms; "My own bootiful Zozey-posey! Tum and pick fowers!"

With an ecstatic shriek at nothing in particular, she caught the edge of the old man's smock.

"My Zozey," she said purringly, "'Oo vezy old, but I loves 'oo!"

A smile and then a laugh went the round of the group. They were all accustomed to Ipsie's enthusiasms. Josey Letherbarrow paused a minute to allow his small admirer to take firm hold of his garments, and patted her little head with his brown wrinkled hand.

"We'se goin' sweetheartin', ain't we, Ipsie," he said gently, the beautiful smile that made his venerable face so fine and lovable, again lighting up his sunken eyes. "Come along, little lass! Come along!"

"She ain't finished her dinner!" breathlessly proclaimed a long- legged girl of about ten, who had run after the child, being one of her numerous sisters; "Mother said she was to come back straight."

"I s'ant go back!" declared Ipsie defiantly; "Zozey and me's sweetheartin'!"

Old Josey chuckled.

"That's so! So we be!" he said tranquilly; "Come along little lass! Come along!" And to the panting sister of the tiny autocrat, he said: "You go on, my gel! I'll bring the baby, 'oldin' on jest as she is now to my smock. She won't stir more'n a fond bird wot's stickin' its little claws into ye for shelter. I'll bring 'er along 'ome, an' she'll finish 'er dinner fine, like a real good baby! Come along, little lass! Come along!"




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