better nor most folks. Was she white-hot, or no-but
[Only] red? El'nor, she came down to me while you was in there, wi' a
hunch o' bread and cheese, and she said it were gettin' smoother a bit
nor it had been most part o' th' day. What said she to you?"
"Less than I said to her."
"You dunnot mean she hearkened you?"
"Not at first. But in the end, she hearkened me, and made me no
answer."
Dan looked his visitor all over from head to foot.
"Well!" said he, and shook his head slowly. "Well!" and wiped his face
with his apron, "Well!" he exclaimed a third time. "If I'd ha' knowed!
I'd ha' given forty marks [Note 1.] to see th' like o' that. Eh, do
'bide a minute, and let me take th' measure on you! T' chap that could
strike our Filomena dumb mun ha' come straight fro' Heaven, for there
isn't his like o' earth! Now, Father, do just tell a body, what did you
say to her?"
"I told her how to be happy."
Dan stared. "She wants no tellin' that, I'll go bail! she's got every
mortal thing her own way."
"That is not the way to be happy," answered the priest. "Nay, my son,
she is a most unhappy woman, and her face shows it. Thou art happier
far than she."
Dan dropped the big hammer in sheer astonishment, and if Father Thomas
had not made a rapid retreat, more than his eyes and ears would have
told him so.
"Me happier nor our Filomena! Me! Father, dunnot be angered wi' me,
but either you're downright silly, or you're somewhat more nor other
folks."
"I have told thee the truth, my son. Now, wilt thou do somewhat to help
thy wife to be happy? If she is happy, she will be humble and meek--
happy, that is, in the way I mean."
"I'll do aught as 'll make our Filomena meek," replied Dan, with a shake
of his grizzled head: "but how that's going to be shaped beats me, I can
tell you. Mun I climb up to th' sky and stick nails into th' moon?"
"Nay," said the priest with a smile. "Thou shalt pray God to make her
as a little child."
"That's a corker, _that_ is!" Dan picked up the hammer, and began
meditatively to fashion a nail. "Our Ank'ret were a babby once," said
he, as if to himself. "She were a bonnie un, too. She were, so! I
used to sit o' th' bench at th' door of an even, wi' her on my knee,
a-smilin' up like--eh, Father, but I'll tell you what, if them times
could come back, it 'd be enough to make a chap think he'd getten into
Heaven by mistake."
"I trust, my son, thou wilt some d
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