at scarce could they keep clothes
on their backs and food i' their bellies; and it hath some time occurred
to me how that the Lord might 'a' given such as could not provide for
themselves a coat o' wool or o' hair that would 'a' covered their
bodies, after the manner of a sheep or goat--the righteous being clad i'
th' first fashion, and the wicked after th' last.

Well, well, I must on. I see thou art waxing restless, comrade. Not so?
Well, drink, drink, then, that I may feel thou art well occupied while
that my old tongue wags.

So poor, then, were Ruth's folks that I said to myself, said I, "What i'
th' name o' pity," so saith I--"what i' th' name o' pity is to become o'
the poor lass?" But I had scarce asked myself th' question when my lass
answers it for me.

"Father," saith she, a-coming and standing afore me, with the empty cup
turning on her long fingers--"father," saith she, keeping those
gold-colored eyes o' hers on mine (methinks they were coined o' th' same
wedge as her heart o' gold)--"father," saith she, just so, "considering
all things," saith she, "I'm going to keep th' lass in my room till her
child be born," so saith she.

Then saith I, pulling her down into my arms, "Lass," saith I, "verily do
I believe that not only is every hair o' thy sweet head numbered, but
that each one is blessed with a separate blessing!" And what with my
love for her, and my admiring of her goodness, and my pride in her, and
what with her pity for the poor girl in th' other room, we did shed
enough tears between us to ha' o'erflowed th' empty cup in her hands.

So she held me about th' neck with both arms, and like to ha' run me mad
with kissing th' back o' my neck (for I was e'er one o' your ticklish
sort). I stood it bravely, however, seeing how she loved me, and kissed
her too whensoever I could get a chance for th' tightness o' her
hugging. And so we settled it. But Mistress Lemon was yet to be
consulted.

Ready enough was I to shift that job on my lass's broad shoulders
(seeing as how a reputation for courage with his wife is ne'er believed
o' a man, at any rate, and as how th' wench had a way o' managing her
mother which sure none could 'a' had that were not of her own flesh).
And that night, when her mother was returned from a round o' gossiping,
th' lass tells her all (having i' th' mean time put Ruth to bed atween
her own sheets). Well, ne'er saw I my wife in such a rage.

"What!" saith she, "thou hast ta'en i