ed the
perfect use of his hands, began a manufacture of mats and baskets, which
he constructed with great nicety and adroitness; the eldest boy, a sharp
and clever lad, cut for him his rushes and osiers; erected, under his
sister's direction, a shed for the cow, and enlarged and cultivated the
garden (always with the good leave of her kind patron the lord of the
manor) until it became so ample, that the produce not only kept the pig,
and half kept the family, but afforded another branch of merchandise to
the indefatigable directress of the establishment. For the younger boy,
less quick and active, Hannah contrived to obtain an admission to the
charity-school, where he made great progress--retaining him at home,
however, in the hay-making and leasing season, or whenever his services
could be made available, to the great annoyance of the schoolmaster,
whose favourite he is, and who piques himself so much on George's
scholarship (your heavy sluggish boy at country work often turns
out quick at his book), that it is the general opinion that this
much-vaunted pupil will, in process of time, be promoted to the post of
assistant, and may, possibly, in course of years, rise to the dignity of
a parish pedagogue in his own person; so that his sister, although still
making him useful at odd times, now considers George as pretty well off
her hands, whilst his elder brother, Tom, could take an under-gardener's
place directly, if he were not too important at home to be spared even
for a day.

In short, during the five years that she has ruled at the Shaw cottage,
the world has gone well with Hannah Bint. Her cow, her calves, her pigs,
her bees, her poultry, have each, in their several ways, thriven and
prospered. She has even brought Watch to like butter-milk, as well as
strong beer, and has nearly persuaded her father (to whose wants
and wishes she is most anxiously attentive) to accept of milk as a
substitute for gin. Not but Hannah hath had her enemies as well as her
betters. Why should she not? The old woman at the lodge, who always
piqued herself on being spiteful, and crying down new ways, foretold
from the first she would come to no good, and could not forgive her for
falsifying her prediction; and Betty Barnes, the slatternly widow of a
tippling farmer, who rented a field, and set up a cow herself, and was
universally discarded for insufferable dirt, said all that the wit of
an envious woman could devise against Hannah and he