her gown
tucked through her pocket-holes, went clattering about the dairy,
cheese-room, and yard, in high pattens. Charity was some sort of niece
of the old lady's, and was consequently free of the farm-house and
garden, into which she could not resist going for the purposes of gossip
and flirtation with the heir-apparent, who was a dawdling fellow, never
out at work as he ought to have been. The moment Charity had found her
cousin, or any other occupation, Tom would slip away; and in a minute
shrill cries would be heard from the dairy, "Charity, Charity, thee lazy
huzzy, where bist?" and Tom would break cover, hands and mouth full of
curds, and take refuge on the shaky surface of the great muck reservoir
in the middle of the yard, disturbing the repose of the great pigs. Here
he was in safety, as no grown person could follow without getting over
their knees; and the luckless Charity, while her aunt scolded her from
the dairy-door, for being "allus hankering about arter our Willum,
instead of minding Master Tom," would descend from threats to coaxing,
to lure Tom out of the muck, which was rising over his shoes and would
soon tell a tale on his stockings, for which she would be sure to catch
it from missus's maid.

Tom had two abettors in the shape of a couple of old boys, Noah and
Benjamin by name, who defended him from Charity, and expended much time
upon his education. They were both of them retired servants of former
generations of the Browns. Noah Crooke was a keen dry old man of almost
ninety, but still able to totter about. He talked to Tom quite as if he
were one of his own family, and indeed had long completely identified
the Browns with himself. In some remote age he had been the attendant of
a Miss Brown, and had conveyed her about the country on a pillion. He
had a little round picture of the identical grey horse, caparisoned with
the identical pillion, before which he used to do a sort of fetish
worship, and abuse turnpike-roads and carriages. He wore an old
full-bottomed wig, the gift of some dandy old Brown whom he had valeted
in the middle of last century, which habiliment Master Tom looked upon
with considerable respect, not to say fear; and indeed his whole feeling
towards Noah was strongly tainted with awe; and when the old gentleman
was gathered to his fathers, Tom's lamentation over him was not
unaccompanied by a certain joy at having seen the last of the wig: "Poor
old Noah, dead and gone," said h