est," said Seth, "when the clouds are over your head
and you see the sun shining ever so far off, over the Loamford way, as
I've often done o' late, on the stormy days. It seems to me as if that
was heaven where there's always joy and sunshine, though this life's
dark and cloudy."

"Oh, I love the Stonyshire side," said Dinah; "I shouldn't like to set
my face towards the countries where they're rich in corn and cattle, and
the ground so level and easy to tread; and to turn my back on the hills
where the poor people have to live such a hard life and the men spend
their days in the mines away from the sunlight. It's very blessed on a
bleak cold day, when the sky is hanging dark over the hill, to feel
the love of God in one's soul, and carry it to the lonely, bare, stone
houses, where there's nothing else to give comfort."

"Eh!" said Lisbeth, "that's very well for ye to talk, as looks welly
like the snowdrop-flowers as ha' lived for days an' days when I'n
gethered 'em, wi' nothin' but a drop o' water an' a peep o' daylight;
but th' hungry foulks had better leave th' hungry country. It makes less
mouths for the scant cake. But," she went on, looking at Adam, "donna
thee talk o' goin' south'ard or north'ard, an' leavin' thy feyther and
mother i' the churchyard, an' goin' to a country as they know nothin'
on. I'll ne'er rest i' my grave if I donna see thee i' the churchyard of
a Sunday."

"Donna fear, mother," said Adam. "If I hadna made up my mind not to go,
I should ha' been gone before now."

He had finished his breakfast now, and rose as he was speaking.

"What art goin' to do?" asked Lisbeth. "Set about thy feyther's coffin?"

"No, mother," said Adam; "we're going to take the wood to the village
and have it made there."

"Nay, my lad, nay," Lisbeth burst out in an eager, wailing tone; "thee
wotna let nobody make thy feyther's coffin but thysen? Who'd make it
so well? An' him as know'd what good work war, an's got a son as is the
head o' the village an' all Treddles'on too, for cleverness."

"Very well, mother, if that's thy wish, I'll make the coffin at home;
but I thought thee wouldstna like to hear the work going on."

"An' why shouldna I like 't? It's the right thing to be done. An' what's
liking got to do wi't? It's choice o' mislikings is all I'n got i' this
world. One morsel's as good as another when your mouth's out o' taste.
Thee mun set about it now this mornin' fust thing. I wonna ha' nobody to
touch