ice jobs o' cabinet-making. I've always done a deal at such
little things in odd hours, and they're profitable, for there's more
workmanship nor material in 'em. I look for me and Seth to get a little
business for ourselves i' that way, for I know a man at Rosseter as 'ull
take as many things as we should make, besides what we could get orders
for round about."

Mr. Poyser entered with interest into a project which seemed a step
towards Adam's becoming a "master-man," and Mrs. Poyser gave her
approbation to the scheme of the movable kitchen cupboard, which was to
be capable of containing grocery, pickles, crockery, and house-linen in
the utmost compactness without confusion. Hetty, once more in her own
dress, with her neckerchief pushed a little backwards on this warm
evening, was seated picking currants near the window, where Adam could
see her quite well. And so the time passed pleasantly till Adam got up
to go. He was pressed to come again soon, but not to stay longer, for at
this busy time sensible people would not run the risk of being sleepy at
five o'clock in the morning.

"I shall take a step farther," said Adam, "and go on to see Mester
Massey, for he wasn't at church yesterday, and I've not seen him for a
week past. I've never hardly known him to miss church before."

"Aye," said Mr. Poyser, "we've heared nothing about him, for it's the
boys' hollodays now, so we can give you no account."

"But you'll niver think o' going there at this hour o' the night?" said
Mrs. Poyser, folding up her knitting.

"Oh, Mester Massey sits up late," said Adam. "An' the night-school's not
over yet. Some o' the men don't come till late--they've got so far to
walk. And Bartle himself's never in bed till it's gone eleven."

"I wouldna have him to live wi' me, then," said Mrs. Poyser, "a-dropping
candle-grease about, as you're like to tumble down o' the floor the
first thing i' the morning."

"Aye, eleven o'clock's late--it's late," said old Martin. "I ne'er sot
up so i' MY life, not to say as it warna a marr'in', or a christenin',
or a wake, or th' harvest supper. Eleven o'clock's late."

"Why, I sit up till after twelve often," said Adam, laughing, "but
it isn't t' eat and drink extry, it's to work extry. Good-night, Mrs.
Poyser; good-night, Hetty."

Hetty could only smile and not shake hands, for hers were dyed and damp
with currant-juice; but all the rest gave a hearty shake to the large
palm that was held out to them,