t what can a do i'
Donkin be as fause as me--as happen he may be?'

'Ga way wi' thee! I' Donkin be Solomon, thou mun be t' Queen o'
Sheba; and I'se bound for to say she outwitted him at last!'

Kester laughed so long at the idea of his being the Queen of Sheba,
that Sylvia was back by her mother's side before the cachinnation
ended.

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