That night, just as Sylvia was preparing to go to bed in her little

closet of a room, she heard some shot rattling at her window. She

opened the little casement, and saw Kester standing below. He

recommenced where he left off, with a laugh-'He, he, he! A's been t' queen! A'se ta'en Donkin on t' reet side,

an' he'll coom in to-morrow, just permiskus, an' ax for work, like

as if 't were a favour; t' oud felley were a bit cross-grained at

startin', for he were workin' at farmer Crosskey's up at t' other

side o' t' town, wheer they puts a strike an' a half of maut intil

t' beer, when most folk put nobbut a strike, an t' made him ill to

convince: but he'll coom, niver fear!' The honest fellow never said a word of the shilling he had paid out

of his own pocket to forward Sylvia's wishes, and to persuade the

tailor to leave the good beer. All his anxiety now was to know if he

had been missed, and if it was likely that a scolding awaited him in

the morning.

'T' oud measter didn't set up his back, 'cause a didn't coom in t'

supper?' 'He questioned a bit as to what thou were about, but mother didn't

know, an' I held my peace. Mother carried thy supper in t' loft for

thee.' 'A'll gang after 't, then, for a'm like a pair o' bellowses wi' t'

wind out; just two flat sides wi' nowt betwixt.' The next morning, Sylvia's face was a little redder than usual when

Harry Donkin's bow-legs were seen circling down the path to the

house door.

'Here's Donkin, for sure!' exclaimed Bell, when she caught sight of

him a minute after her daughter. 'Well, I just call that lucky! for

he'll be company for thee while Sylvia and me has to turn th'

cheeses.' This was too original a remark for a wife to make in Daniel's

opinion, on this especial morning, when his rheumatism was twinging

him more than usual, so he replied with severity-'That's all t' women know about it. Wi' them it's "coompany,

coompany, coompany," an' they think a man's no better than

theirsels. A'd have yo' to know a've a vast o' thoughts in myself',

as I'm noane willing to lay out for t' benefit o' every man. A've

niver gotten time for meditation sin' a were married; leastways,

sin' a left t' sea. Aboard ship, wi' niver a woman wi'n leagues o'

hail, and upo' t' masthead, in special, a could.' 'Then I'd better tell Donkin as we've no work for him,' said Sylvia,

instinctively managing her father by agreeing with him, instead of

reasoning with or contradicting him.




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