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Jan Coggan, the master-shearer; the second and third shearers, who travelled in the exercise of their calling, and do not require definition by name; Henery Fray the fourth shearer, Susan Tall's husband the fifth, Joseph Poorgrass the sixth, young Cain Ball as assistant-shearer, and Gabriel Oak as general supervisor.
"He can blow the flute very well that 'a can," said a young married man, who having no individuality worth mentioning was known as "Susan Tall's husband." He continued, "I'd as lief as not be able to blow into a flute as well as that." "He's a clever man, and 'tis a true comfort for us to have such a shepherd," murmured Joseph Poorgrass, in a soft cadence.
"Whatever IS the matter, men?" she said, meeting them at the door just as she was coming out on her way to church, and ceasing in a moment from the close compression of her two red lips, with which she had accompanied the exertion of pulling on a tight glove. "Sixty!" said Joseph Poorgrass. "Seventy!" said Moon. "Fifty-nine!" said Susan Tall's husband. " Sheep have broke fence," said Fray.
"Ay, I see: quite right, too, I suppose I must say. And you be now going down to the clerk." "Yes; you may as well come with me." "I am afeard your labour in keeping it close will be throwed away." said Coggan, as they walked along. "Labe Tall's old woman will horn it all over parish in half-an-hour. " "So she will, upon my life; I never thought of that." said Oak, pausing.
The question was such a profound one that Henery was obliged to drink there and then from the large cup till the bottom was distinctly visible inside. Before he had replaced it on the table, in came the young man, Susan Tall's husband, in a still greater hurry. "Have ye heard the news that's all over parish?" "About Baily Pennyways?" "But besides that?"
Oak then struck up "Jockey to the Fair." and played that sparkling melody three times through accenting the notes in the third round in a most artistic and lively manner by bending his body in small jerks and tapping with his foot to beat time. "He can blow the flute very well that 'a can." said a young married man, who having no individuality worth mentioning was known as "Susan Tall's husband."
"Whatever is the matter, men?" she said, meeting them at the door just as she was coming out on her way to church, and ceasing in a moment from the close compression of her two red lips, with which she had accompanied the exertion of pulling on a tight glove. "Sixty!" said Joseph Poorgrass. "Seventy!" said Moon. "Fifty-nine!" said Susan Tall's husband. " Sheep have broke fence." said Fray.
It came from the old man in the background, whose offensiveness and spiteful ways were barely atoned for by the occasional chuckle he contributed to general laughs. "O no, no," said Gabriel. "Don't ye play no more shepherd" said Susan Tall's husband, the young married man who had spoken once before. "I must be moving and when there's tunes going on I seem as if hung in wires.
This scheme was considered feasible; and Coggan advanced boldly, and rapped at Mrs. Tall's door. Mrs. Tall herself opened it. "I wanted to have a word with Laban." "He's not at home, and won't be this side of eleven o'clock. He've been forced to go over to Yalbury since shutting out work. I shall do quite as well." "I hardly think you will.
Fray's forehead was wrinkled both perpendicularly and crosswise, after the pattern of a portcullis, expressive of a double despair. Laban Tall's lips were thin, and his face were rigid. Matthew's jaws sank, and his eyes turned whichever way the strongest muscle happened to pull them.
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