ting on all the time.

'And thee shalt have t' roller and paste-board, because thee's so
fond o' puddings and cakes. It 'll serve thy wife after I'm gone,
and I trust she'll boil her paste long enough, for that's been t'
secret o' mine, and thee'll noane be so easy t' please.'

'I din't reckon on marriage,' said William.

'Thee'll marry,' said Alice. 'Thee likes to have thy victuals hot
and comfortable; and there's noane many but a wife as'll look after
that for t' please thee.'

'I know who could please me,' sighed forth William, 'but I can't
please her.'

Alice looked sharply at him from over her spectacles, which she had
put on the better to think about the disposal of her property.

'Thee art thinking on our Hester,' said she, plainly out.

He started a little, but looked up at her and met her eyes.

'Hester cares noane for me,' said he, dejectedly.

'Bide a while, my lad,' said Alice, kindly. 'Young women don't
always know their own minds. Thee and her would make a marriage
after my own heart; and the Lord has been very good to me hitherto,
and I think He'll bring it t' pass. But don't thee let on as thee
cares for her so much. I sometimes think she wearies o' thy looks
and thy ways. Show up thy manly heart, and make as though thee had
much else to think on, and no leisure for to dawdle after her, and
she'll think a deal more on thee. And now mend thy pen for a fresh
start. I give and bequeath--did thee put "give and bequeath," at th'
beginning?'

'Nay,' said William, looking back. 'Thee didst not tell me "give and
bequeath!"'

'Then it won't be legal, and my bit o' furniture 'll be taken to
London, and put into chancery, and Hester will have noane on it.'

'I can write it over,' said William.

'Well, write it clear then, and put a line under it to show those
are my special words. Hast thee done it? Then now start afresh. I
give and bequeath my book o' sermons, as is bound in good calfskin,
and lies on the third shelf o' corner cupboard at the right hand o'
t' fire-place, to Philip Hepburn; for I reckon he's as fond o'
reading sermons as thee art o' light, well-boiled paste, and I'd be
glad for each on ye to have somewhat ye like for to remember me by.
Is that down? There; now for my cousins John and Jeremiah. They are
rich i' world's gear, but they'll prize what I leave 'em if I could
only onbethink me what they would like. Hearken! Is na' that our
Hester's step? Put it away, quick! I'm noane for