ying about, you haven't got much time to think about
anything; but I did think this, that if ever I got back to Old England,
if it was twenty year to come, I'd go and see the old master and missus
and 'ear 'ow that lawsuit wur going on."

"And that be right, Joe--I knowed 'ee would; I said as much to master.
But 'ow do thee think it'll end? shall us win or lose?"

Now this was the first time he had ever been called upon to give a legal
opinion, or rather, an opinion upon a legal matter, so he was naturally
somewhat put about; and looking at the rolling-pin and the dough and then
at Mrs. Bumpkin, said:

"Well, it's like this: a man med win or a man med lose, there's no
telling about the case; but I be dang'd well sure o' this, missus, he'll
lose his money: I wish master had chucked her up long agoo."

This opinion was not encouraging; and perceiving that the subject
troubled Mrs. Bumpkin more than she liked to confess, he asked a question
which was of more immediate importance to himself, and that was in
reference to Polly Sweetlove.

"Why, thee'll make her look at thee now, I'll warrant; thy clothes fit
thee as though they growed on thee."

"Do she walk with the baker?" inquired Joe, with trembling accents.

"I never heeard so, an' it's my belief she never looked at un wi' any
meaning. I've seen her many a time comin' down the Green Lane by herself
and peepin' over th' gate."

"Now look at that!" said Joe; "and when I was here I couldn't get Polly
to come near the farm--allays some excuse--did you ever speak to her
about me, missus?"

"I ain't going to tell tales out of school, Joe, so there."

"Now look at that," said Joe; "here's a chap comes all this way and you
won't tell him anything."

Mrs. Bumpkin laughed, and went on rolling the dough, and told him what a
nice dumpling she was making, and how he would like it, and asked how
long he was going to stop, and hoped it would be a month, and was telling
him all about the sheep and the cows and the good behaviour of the bull,
when suddenly she said:

"Here he be, Joe! lor, lor, how glad he'll be to see thee!"

But it wasn't the Bull that stepped into the room; it was Mr. Bumpkin,
rosy, stalwart, jolly, and artful as ever. Now Mrs. Bumpkin was very
anxious to be the bearer of such good intelligence as Joe's arrival, so,
notwithstanding the fact that Mr. Bumpkin and he were face to face, the
eager woman exclaimed:

"Here be our Joe, Tom, hearty and well