l Hope will have to take a side. 'Tis no use his
trying to be everybody's friend this time, though that's his natural
character, poor chap."

Monckton's eyes flashed fire, but he suppressed all appearance of
excitement, and asked who Mr. Hope was.

Mrs. Dawson brightened at the very name of her favorite, and said, "Who
is Will Hope? Why, the cleverest man in Derbyshire, for one thing; but he
is that Bartley's right-hand man, worse luck. He is inspector of the mine
and factotum. He is the handiest man in England. He invents machines, and
makes fiddles and plays 'em, and mends all their clocks and watches and
wheel-barrows, and charges 'em naught. He makes hisself too common. I
often tell him so. Says I, 'Why dost let 'em all put on thee so? Serve
thee right if I was to send thee my pots and pans to mend.' 'And so do,'
says he, directly. 'There's no art in it, if you can make the sawder, and
I can do that, by the Dick and Harry!' And one day I said to him, 'Do
take a look at this fine new cow of mine as cost me twenty-five good
shillings and a quart of ale. What ever is the matter with her? She looks
like the skin of a cow flattened against the board.' So says he, 'Nay,
she's better drawn than nine in ten; but she wants light and shade. Send
her to my workshop.' 'Ay, ay,' says I; 'thy workshop is like the
church-yard; we be all bound to go there one day or t'other.' Well, sir,
if you believe me, when they brought her home and hung her again she
almost knocked my eye out. There was three or four more women looking on,
and I mind all on us skreeked a bit, and our hands went up in the air as
if one string had pulled the lot; and says Bet Morgan, the carter's wife,
'Lord sake, gie me a bucket somebody, and let me milk her!' 'Nay, but
thou shalt milk me,' said I, and a pint of fourpenny I gave her, then and
there, for complimenting of my cow. Will Hope, he's everybody's friend.
He made the Colonel a crutch with his own hands, which the Colonel can
use no other now. Walter swears by him. Miss Mary dotes on him: he saved
her life in the river when she was a girl. The very miners give him a
good word, though he is very strict with them; and as for Bartley, it's
my belief he owes all his good luck to Will Hope. And to think he was
born in this village, and left it a poor lad; ay, and he came back here
one day as poor as Job, seems but t'other day, with his bundle on his
back and his poor little girl in his hand. I dare say I fed t