Joyce Morrell's Harvest Part 4

"He saith 'the law is not given unto a righteous man,' so how can they be aught but ill folk that be alway a-poking in it? Tell me that, Mistress. If 'birds of a feather will flock together,' then a chap that's shaking hands every day wi' th' law mun be an ill un, and no mistake."

"Go to, _Jack_: it signifies not that," _Milly_ makes answer. "Saint _Paul_ meant that the law of G.o.d was given for the sake of ill men, not good men. The laws of _England_ be other matter."

"Get out wi' ye!" saith _Jack_. "Do ye think I wis not what _Paul_ means as well as a woman? It says th' law, and it means th' law. And if he'd signified as you say, he'd have said as th' law wasn't given again' a righteous man, not to him. You gi'e o'er comin' a-rumpagin'

like yon."

For me, I scarce knew which way to look, to let me from laughing. But _Milly_ goes on, sad as any judge.

"Well, but if lawyers be thus bad, _Jack_--though my sister's husband is a lawyer, mind thou--"

"He's a rascal, then!" breaks in _Jack_. "They're all rascals, every wastrel [an unprincipled, good-for-nothing fellow] of 'em."

"But what fas.h.i.+on of folk be better?" saith _Milly_. "Thou seest, _Jack_, we maids be nigh old enough for wedding, and I would fain know the manner of man a woman were best to wed."

"Best let 'em all a-be," growls _Jack_. "Women's always snarin' o' men.

Women's bad uns. Howbeit, you la.s.ses down at th' Hall are th' better end, I reckon."

"Oh, thank you, _Jack_!" cries _Milly_ with much warmth. "Now do tell me--shall I wed with a chirurgeon?"

"And take p'ison when he's had enough of you," quoth _Jack_. "Nay, never go in for one o' them chaps. They kills folks all th' day, and lies a-thinkin' how to do it all th' night."

"A soldier, then?" saith _Milly_.

"Hired murderers," saith _Jack_.

"Come, _Jack_, thou art hard on a poor maid. Thou wilt leave me ne'er a one. Oh, ay, there is the parson."

"What!" shrieks forth _Jack_. "One o' they _Babylonian_ ma.s.s-mongers?

Hypocrites, wolves in sheep's clothing a-pretending for to be shepherds!

Old _'Zekiel_, he's summut to say touching them. You get home, and just read his thirty-fourth chapter; and wed one o' them wastrels at after, if ye can! Now then, get ye forth; I've had enough o' women. I telled ye so."

"Fare thee well, _Jack_," quoth _Milly_ in mocking tribulation. "I see how it is,--I shall be forced to wed a lead-miner."

I was verily thankful that _Milly_ did come away, for I could bear no longer. We ran fast down the steep track, and once at the bottom, we laughed till the tears ran down. When we were something composed, said I--

"Shall we look in on old _Isaac Crewdson_?"

"Gramercy, not this morrow," quoth _Milly_. "_Jack's_ enough for one day. Old _Isaac_ alway gives me the horrors. I cannot do with him atop of _Jack_."

So we came home. But if _Milly_ love it not, then will I go by myself to see old _Isaac_, for he liketh me well.

SELWICK HALL, OCTOBER YE IX.

Aunt _Joyce_ went with me yesterday to see _Isaac_. We found him of the chimney-corner, whence he seldom stirreth, being now infirm. Old _Mary_ had but then made an end of her was.h.i.+ng, and she was a-folding the clean raiment to put by. I ran into the garden and gathered sprigs of rosemary, whereof they have a fine thriving bush.

"Do tell me, _Mall_," said I, "how thou orderest matters, for to have thy rosemary thrive thus? Our bush is right stunted to compare withal."

"I never did nought to it," quoth old _Mall_, somewhat crustily. She is _Jack Benn's_ sister, and truly they be something like.

"Eh, Mistress _Nell_, dunna ye know?" saith _Isaac_, laughing feebly.

"Th' rosemary always thrives well where th' missis is th' master. Did ye never hear yon saying?"

"Shut up wi' thy foolish saws!" saith _Mall_, a-turning round on him.

"He's a power of proverbs and saws, Mistress _Nell_, and he's for ever and the day after a-thrustin' of 'em in. There's no wit i' such work."

"Eh, but there's a deal o' wit in some o' they old saws!" _Isaac_ makes answer, of his slow fas.h.i.+on. "Look ye now,--'_Brag's_ a good dog, but _Holdfast's_ better'--there's a true sayin' for ye. Then again look ye,--'He that will have a hare to breakfast must hunt o'er night.' And 'A grunting horse and a groaning wife never fails their master.' Eh, but that's true!" And old _Isaac_ laughed, of his feeble fas.h.i.+on, yet again.

"There be some men like to make groaning wives," quoth _Mall_, crustily.

"They sit i' th' chimney-corner at their ease, and put ne'er a hand to the work."

"That is not thy case, _Mall_," saith Aunt _Joyce_, cheerily. "So long as he were able, I am well a.s.sured _Isaac_ took his share of the work.

And now ye be both infirm and stiff of the joints, what say ye to a good sharp la.s.s that should save your old bones? I know one that should come but for her meat,--a good stirring maid that should not let the gra.s.s grow under her feet. What sayest, _Mall_?"

"What, me?" saith _Mall_. "Eh, you'd best ask th' master. I am none th' master here, howso the rosemary may thrive. I would say she should ne'er earn the salt to her porridge; but I'm of no signification in this house, as I well wis. You'd best ask o' them as is."

"Why, then, we mun gi'e th' porridge in," quoth _Isaac_. "Come, _Mall_, thou know'st better, la.s.s."

But old _Mary_, muttering somewhat we might not well hear, went forth to fetch in a fresh armful of linen from the hedge.

"What hath put her out, _Isaac_?" asks Aunt _Joyce_.

"Eh, Mistress _Joyce_, there's no telling!" saith he. "'Tis not so much as puts her in. She's easy put out, is _Mall_: and 'tis no good on earth essaying to pull her in again. You'd best let her be. She'll come in of hersen, when she's weary of threapin'." [Grumbling, fault-finding.]

"I reckon thou art weary first, most times," saith _Aunt_.

"Well! I've ay kept a good heart up," quo' he. "'The still sow eateth all the draff,' ye ken. I've bore wi' _Mall_ for fifty year, and it comes easier than it might to an other man. And the Lord has bore wi'

me for seventy odd. If He can bear wi' me a bit longer, I reckon I can wi' _Mall_."

Aunt _Joyce_ smiled on old _Isaac_ as she rose up.

"Ay, Goodman, that is the best way for to take it," saith she. "And now, _Nell_, we must hurry home, for I see a mighty black cloud o'er yonder."

So we home, bidding G.o.d be wi' ye to old _Mall_, in pa.s.sing, and had but a grunt in answer: but we won home afore the rain, and found _Father_ and _Mynheer_ a-talking in the great chamber, and _Mother_ above, laying of sweet herbs in the linen with _Edith_.

Note 1. Pa.s.sages from the New Testament are quoted from Cranmer's or the Geneva version, both then in common use.

CHAPTER TWO.

WHEREIN IDEAS DIFFER.

"O man, little hast thou learned of truth in things most true."--Martin Farquhar Tupper.

(_In Helen's handwriting_.)

SELWICK HALL, OCTOBER THE XII.