ve it, and Bertha, stooping down, kissed Dan on his
broad wrinkled forehead.

"Did thou get a penny?" asked Dan.

"I got two!" cried Bertha, triumphantly. "And Aunt Avice got one. Did
you, Father?"

"Nay, lass--none o' my luck! Silver pennies and such knows better nor
to come my way. Nor they'd better not, without they'll come right
number. I should get tore to bits if I went home wi' one, as like as
not. She 'd want it, and so 'd Ankaret, and so 'd Susanna, and so 'd
Mildred; and atwixt 'em all it 'd get broke i' pieces, and _so_ should
I. And see thou, it's made i' quarters, and I amn't, so it wouldn't
come so convenient to me."

Pennies were then made with a deep cross cut athwart them, so that they
were easily broken, when wanted, into halfpence and farthings, for there
were no separate ones coined.

"Father, have one of mine!" cried Bertha at the beginning of Dan's
answer.

"Nay, nay, lass! Keep thy bit o' silver--or if thou wants to give it,
let Emma have it. She'll outlive it; I shouldn't."

The silver penny changed hands at once. Avice had meanwhile been
hanging up her hood and cloak, and she now proceeded to prepare a dish
of eggs, foreseeing company to supper. Supper was exceedingly early
to-day, as it was scarcely three o'clock; but dinner had been equally
so, for nobody wanted to be busy when the Queen came. A large dish of
"eggs and butter" was speedily on the table--the "buttered eggs" of the
north of England, which are, I believe, identical with the "scrambled
eggs" of the United States. The party sat down to supper, Father Thomas
being served with a trencher to himself.

"And how dost thou get along wi' thy Missis, my lass?" said Dan to his
daughter.

"Oh, things is very pleasant as yet, Father," answered Emma with a
smile. "There's a mixture, as you said just now. Some's decent lasses
enough; and some's foolish; and some's middlin'. There's most of the
middlin' ones."

"I'm fain to hear it," said Dan. "Lasses is so foolish, I should ha'
thought there 'd be most o' that lot. So 's lads too. Eh, it's a queer
world, this un: mortal queer! But I asked thee how thou got on with thy
Missis, and thou tells me o' th' lasses. Never _did_ know a woman
answer straight off. Ask most on 'em how far it is to Newark, and
they'll answer you that t' wind was west as they come fro' Barling."

"Thou hast not a good opinion of women, my son," said Father Thomas, who
looked much amused.