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Updated: June 18, 2025
"What be amiss with 'ee, then, Kitty Chuter?" said Jan, looking up from his work; and the question was passed on with some impatience, as her tears prevented her reply. "What be amiss with 'ee?" "Janny Lake have never made a pig for I," sobbed the little maid, with her head dolefully inclined to her left shoulder, and her oval face pulled to a doubly pensive length.
On the day of the dinner the new sign swung aloft. "It couldn't dry better anywhere," said Master Chuter. Jan "found himself famous." The whole parish assembled to admire.
"But I knows the points of a oss, and the makings of a pig, if I bean't a sign-painter. And, mark my words, the boy Jan 'ull out-paint Master Linseed yet." Master Chuter spoke with triumph in his tone, but it was the triumph of delivering his sentiments to unopposing hearers.
And then there'd be trees beyond and beyond, smaller and smaller, and all like a blue mist between them, thee know. That blue in the paper 'ee've got would just do, and with more white to it 'twould be beautiful for the sky. And" "And who's to do all that for a few shillings?" broke in the painter, testily. "And Master Chuter wants it done and hung up for the Foresters' dinner."
As he raised his head, the tears were in his eyes, and he held out his hand, saying, "My lad, it's just the spirit of the woods. "But d'ye not think a figure or so would enliven it?" he continued. "One of Robin Hood's foresters 'chasing the flying roe'?" "FORESTERS! To be sure!" said Master Chuter. "What did I say? Have the schoolmaster in, says I. He be a scholar, and knows what's what.
"Well, well, Master Chuter," said the painter and decorator, rising to go, "let the boy draw pigs and osses for his living. And I wish he may find paint as easy as slate-pencil."
He had not found voice to speak, when Rufus appeared at the gate with one basket, followed by Jan and the little innkeeper with another. Why Master Chuter had come, and why Jan was looking so particularly well satisfied, must be explained.
Master Chuter met them at the door. "There be a letter for you, Jan," said he. "'Twas brought by a young varment I knows well. He belongs to them that keeps a low public at the foot of the hill, and he do be for all the world like a hudmedud, without the usefulness of un." The letter was dirty and ill-written enough to correspond to the innkeeper's account of its origin.
Hard by, Master Chuter shows the "fever monument," and the names of Master Lake's children. And then, as Daddy Solomon has fumbled the door open, they pass into the church. The east end has been restored, the innkeeper says, by the Squire, under the advice of his son-in-law.
The fame of Jan's "pitcher-making" had gone before him to Dame Datchett's school by the mouths of his foster-brothers and sisters, and he found a dozen little voices ready to dictate subjects for his pencil. "Make a 'ouse, Janny Lake." "Make thee vather's mill, Janny Lake." "Make a man. Make Dame Datchett. Make the parson. Make the Cheap Jack. Make Daddy Angel. Make Master Chuter.
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