shall very likely be at
Tidser as soon as they are."

"But you are not going to Tidser," said Jane, "your farm is just before
us there."

"Yay, I'm going to Tidser though. I've a bit of business to do there
before I go hom."

On drove the farmer at what he called a spanking rate; presently they
saw the young mill-people on the road before them.

"There are your companions," said James Cheshire; "we shall cut past
them like a flash of lightning."

"Oh," exclaimed Jane Dunster, "what will they say at seeing us riding
here?" and she blushed brightly.

"Say?" said the young farmer, smiling, "never mind what they'll say;
depend upon it, they'd like to be here theirsens."

James Cheshire cracked his whip. The horse flew along. The party of the
young mill-hands turned round, and on seeing Jane and Nancy in the cart,
uttered exclamations of surprise.

"My word, though!" said Mary Smedley, a fresh buxom lass, somewhat
inclined to stoutness.

"Well, if ever!" cried smart little Hannah Bowyer.

"Nay, then, what next?" said Tetty Wilton, a tall, thin girl of very
good looks.

The two sisters nodded and smiled to their companions; Jane still
blushing rosily, but Nancy sitting as pale and as gravely as if they
were going on some solemn business.

The only notice the farmer took was to turn with a broad, smiling face,
and shout to them, "Wouldn't you like to be here too?"

"Ay, take us up," shouted a number of voices together; but the farmer
cracked his whip, and giving them a nod and a dozen smiles in one, said,
"I can't stay. Ask the next farmer that comes up."

With this they drove on; the young farmer very merry and full of talk.
They were soon by the side of his farm. "There's a flock of sheep on
the turnips there," he said, proudly, "they're not to be beaten on this
side Ashbourne. And there are some black oxen, going for the night to
the straw-yard. Jolly fellows, those, eh? But I reckon you don't
understand much of farming stock?"

"No," said Jane, and was again surprised at Nancy adding, "I wish we
did. I think a farmer's life must be the very happiest of any."

"You think so?" said the farmer, turning and looking at her earnestly,
and evidently with some wonder. "You are right," said he. "You little
ones are knowing ones. You are right: it's the life for a king."

They were at the village. "Pray stop," said Jane, "and let us get down.
I would not for the world go up the village thus. It would make such