e, goo where ur
wool; but, Tom, couldn't thee 'a' kept thine eye on un when thee see thic
Sergeant hoverin' roun' like a 'awk arter a sparrer?"

"I did keep eye on un, I tell 'ee; but what be the good o' thic; as well
keep thee eye on th' sparrer when th' hawk be at un. I tell 'ee I
'suaded un and warned un, and begged on un to look out."

"An' what did ur say?"

"Say, why said ur wur up to un."

"Up to un," repeated Mrs. Bumpkin. "Can't think 'ow ur got 'old on un."

"No, and thee mark I, no more can nobody else--in Lunnon thee're 'ad
afore thee knows where thee be."

And now Mr. Bumpkin had his "little drop of warm gin and water before
going to bed": and Mrs. Bumpkin had a mug of elder wine, for the
Christmas elder wine was not quite gone: and after that Mrs. Bumpkin, who
as the reader knows, was the better scholar of the two, took down from a
shelf on which the family documents and books were kept, a large old
bible covered with green baize. Then she wiped her glasses, and after
turning over the old brown leaves until she came to the place where she
had read last before Tom went away, commenced her evening task, while her
husband smoked on and listened.

Was it the old tone with which she spelt her way through the sacred
words? Hardly: here it could be perceived that in her secret heart there
was doubt and mistrust. Do what she would her eyes frequently became so
dim that it was necessary to pause and wipe her glasses; and when she had
finished and closed the book, she took Tom's hand and said:

"O, Tom, I hope all 'll turn out well, but sure enough I ha' misgivings."

"What be it, my dear? Mr. Prigg say we shall win--how can ur do better
'an thic?"

"Shall we get back the pigs and sheep, Tom?"

"Why not?"

Mrs. Bumpkin looked into her lap, and folding her apron very smooth with
both hands, answered:

"I doan't think, Tom, that man looks like bringing anything back. He be
very chuffy and masterful, and looks all round as he goo away, as though
he wur lookin' to see what ur would take next. I think he'll have un
all, Tom."

"Stuff!" said Mr. Bumpkin, "he be sellin' for I, take what ur may."

"He be sellin' THEE, Tom, I think, and I'd stop un from takin' more."

They rose to go to bed, and as Mrs. Bumpkin looked at the cosy old
hearth, and put up the embers of the log to make it safe for the night,
it seemed as if the prosperity of their old home had burnt down at last
to dull ashes, and she