s
there; I mind me o't now.

No sound 'scaped her, but presently she lifts herself up upon her knees
again, with such heaviness as a horse overburdened doth get him to his
feet, and she holds out both her arms i' th' direction where th' lad
hath vanished, wi' th' grass and flowers yet fast in her clinched hands;
and she saith twice, i' th' voice o' a woman in travail,

"Never will he know, never will he know," she saith; and then, "Oh,
God!" she saith, a-lifting her hands again to her breast. "Summat's
broke here," she saith, full meek, like a body that's looked a many time
on pain--"summat's broke, summat's broke," o'er and o'er again, as
though she would use herself to th' sound, as 'twere. Then all at once
did a deep cry break from her. "God, O God," she saith, "show me how to
bear 't! My God, my God, show me how to bear 't." And she got to her
feet, and sped down th' lane like one blind, running first into th'
hawthorn bushes o' this side, then into th' quickset hedge o' th' other,
and tearing out her loosened tresses on th' low-hanging branches o' th'
pear-trees, so that I traced her by her hair i' th' twigs, like as thou
wouldst trace any poor lost lamb by its wool on the brambles. Now, it
did almost break my own heart to say naught to her concerning all o't,
but I knew that 'twould but grieve without comforting her; and rather
would I 'a' had my old heart split in twain than bring one more ache
into her true breast. So naught say I. Never a word, comrade, from then
till now have I e'er said to her about that time.

Well, for all 's fine talk, Master Hacket went no more to hell than do
any other men that marry--an' less than some, seeing as how a did not
marry a scold, which (God forgive me, or her, or both o' us) I have
done. Yea, comrade, I will commemorate this our first meeting in eight
years by confessing to thee that my wife (in thy ear, comrade)--that my
wife was a scold. Sometimes I do verily think as how women like Mistress
Lemon be sent unto men to keep 'em from pondering too heavily concerning
the absence o' marriage in heaven. By cock and pye, man, as I live, I do
honestly believe that I would rather be a bachelor in hell, than the
husband o' Mistress Lemon in heaven!

But to come back to th' lass. And, now that I think o' th' lass,
comrade, I am not so sure that a scolding wife is not well paid for by a
duteous daughter. Nay, I am sure o't. Methinks I would 'a' been wed
twice, and each time to a s