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ADAM came back from his work in the empty waggon that was why he had changed his clothes and was ready to set out to the Hall Farm when it still wanted a quarter to seven. "What's thee got thy Sunday cloose on for?" said Lisbeth complainingly, as he came downstairs. "Thee artna goin' to th' school i' thy best coat?" "No, Mother," said Adam, quietly.
"I'm going to the Hall Farm, but mayhap I may go to the school after, so thee mustna wonder if I'm a bit late. Seth 'ull be at home in half an hour he's only gone to the village; so thee wutna mind." "Eh, an' what's thee got thy best cloose on for to go to th' Hall Farm? The Poyser folks see'd thee in 'em yesterday, I warrand. What dost mean by turnin' worki'day into Sunday a-that'n?
So let us have no more words about it." "Eh," said Lisbeth, not willing to show that she felt the real bearing of Adam's words, "and' who likes to see thee i' thy best cloose better nor thy mother? An' when thee'st got thy face washed as clean as the smooth white pibble, an' thy hair combed so nice, and thy eyes a-sparklin' what else is there as thy old mother should like to look at half so well?
An' thee sha't put on thy Sunday cloose when thee lik'st for me I'll ne'er plague thee no moor about'n." "Well, well; good-bye, mother," said Adam, kissing her and hurrying away. He saw there was no other means of putting an end to the dialogue. Lisbeth stood still on the spot, shading her eyes and looking after him till he was quite out of sight.
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