an' boil 'is 'ead. But it
'ad no effect; for he only got worse, till he ended up by blackin' 'is
face an' smotherin' 'er with a pillow for something quite different.
After that he got better, an' they ended up by playin' a thing that made
everybody laugh. I didn' 'ear it, but took a walk outside to blow off
steam, an' only came back just as the fuss began about the carriages.
Fact is, missy, I can't abear to see a woman used abuseful."

"That's because you 're in love," said Tilda. "But, if you'll listen to
me, women ain't always what you take 'em for."

"Ain't they?" he queried. "I'd be sorry to believe that; though 'twould
be 'elpful, I don't mind tellin' you."

"I've known cases--that is, if you _want_ to be cured--"

"I do, an' I don't," he groaned. But it was clear that in the main he
did not; for he changed the subject hastily. "See 'ere, would you mind
takin' 'old o' the book an' checkin' while I counts out the money.
Total takin's--four, three, three--less 'ire of 'all, four-an'-six--"

"I can read figures an' print," owned Tilda, "but 'andwriting's too
much for me; an' yours, I dare say, isn' none o' the best."

"I've improved it a lot at the night school. But what is it puzzlin'
you?" he asked, looking up as he counted.

She held out the book, but not as he had handed it. The light breeze
had blown over two or three of its leaves, covering the page of
accounts.

"Oh, _that?_" he stammered, and a blush spread to his ears. "I didn'
mean you to see--"

"What is it?"

"Well--it's potery, if you must know. Leastways it's meant to be
potery. I make it sometimes."

"Why?"

"To relieve my feelin's."

"'Pears to me your feelin's want a deal o' relievin', one way an'
another. Read me some."

"You're sure you won't laugh?"

"Bless the man! 'Ow can I tell till I've 'eard it? Is it meant to be
funny?"

"No."

"Well, then, I'm not likely to laugh. It don't come easy to me, any'ow:
I seen too many clowns."

She handed him the book. He chose a poem, conquered his diffidence, and
began--

"Stratford-on-Avon, Stratford-on-Avon--
My heart is full of woe:
Formerly, once upon a time
It was not ever so."

"The love that then I faltered
I now am forced to stifle;
For the case is completely altered
And I wish I had a rifle."

"I wish I was wrecked
Like Robinson Crusoe,
But you cannot expect
A canal-boat to do so."

"Perhaps I ough