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"A fair stave, Grandfer Cantle; but I am afeard 'tis too much for the mouldy weasand of such a old man as you," he said to the wrinkled reveller. "Dostn't wish th' wast three sixes again, Grandfer, as you was when you first learnt to sing it?" "Hey?" said Grandfer Cantle, stopping in his dance. "Dostn't wish wast young again, I say? There's a hole in thy poor bellows nowadays seemingly."
She went down on her knees, shovel in hand, when the cat overturned the coal-scuttle; moreover, she would persistently thank the parlour-maid for everything, till one day, as soon as the girl was gone from the room, Henchard broke out with, "Good God, why dostn't leave off thanking that girl as if she were a goddess-born! Don't I pay her a dozen pound a year to do things for 'ee?"
Fuller was determined to make the most of his history, after the manner of men who have stories ready made for them but rarely. "I don't know," replied Reuben, to the old man's amazement. "Do you know what the letter was about, Mr. Fuller?" "Don't know?" cried Fuller. "What beest hov-erin' about? Knowst whether thee hadst a letter or not, dostn't?"
"Ah, th'st think th' beest everybody, dostn't, because th' beest first favourite with He just now! But stop a bit, my lady, stop a bit! I'm as good as two of such! Look here here's at 'ee!"
He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though 'twere a dance and he leading out his partner. "Who is that yonder?" asked I, sitting up and pointing. "Bless thy innocent heart!" said my comrade, "dostn't thee know? Tis Sir Bevill."
"And dostn't mind how mother would sing, Christopher?" continued Mrs. Cuxsom, kindling at the retrospection; "and how we went with her to the party at Mellstock, do ye mind? at old Dame Ledlow's, farmer Shinar's aunt, do ye mind? she we used to call Toad-skin, because her face were so yaller and freckled, do ye mind?" "I do, hee-hee, I do!" said Christopher Coney.
But Sylvia understood her better than Daniel did as it appeared. 'Hou'd thy tongue, mother. 'She's a good lass at times; and if she liked to wear a yellow-orange cloak she should have it. Here's Philip here, as stands up for laws and press-gangs, I'll set him to find us a law again pleasing our lass; and she our only one. Thou dostn't think on that, mother!
Prithee, quoth Panurge, take heed thyself, dear frater, lest, till monks have leave to marry, thou weddest something thou dostn't like, as some cat-o'-nine-tails or the quartan ague; if thou dost, may I never come safe and sound out of this hypogeum, this subterranean cave, if I don't tup and ram that disease merely for the sake of making thee a cornuted, corniferous property; otherwise I fancy the quartan ague is but an indifferent bedfellow.
But Sylvia understood her better than Daniel did as it appeared. 'Hou'd thy tongue, mother. 'She's a good lass at times; and if she liked to wear a yellow-orange cloak she should have it. Here's Philip here, as stands up for laws and press-gangs, I'll set him to find us a law again pleasing our lass; and she our only one. Thou dostn't think on that, mother!
"A fair stave, Grandfer Cantle; but I am afeard 'tis too much for the mouldy weasand of such a old man as you," he said to the wrinkled reveller. "Dostn't wish th' wast three sixes again, Grandfer, as you was when you first learnt to sing it?" "Hey?" said Grandfer Cantle, stopping in his dance. "Dostn't wish wast young again, I say? There's a hole in thy poor bellows nowadays seemingly."
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