pologetic smile to
the shepherd, who had just appeared on the scene, and was now leaning
against the doorpost with his arms folded.
"No, I don't mind that," said Gabriel.
"How did Cain come by such a name?" asked Bathsheba.
"Oh you see, mem, his pore mother, not being a Scripture-read woman,
made a mistake at his christening, thinking 'twas Abel killed Cain,
and called en Cain, meaning Abel all the time. The parson put it
right, but 'twas too late, for the name could never be got rid of in
the parish. 'Tis very unfortunate for the boy."
"It is rather unfortunate."
"Yes. However, we soften it down as much as we can, and call him
Cainy. Ah, pore widow-woman! she cried her heart out about it
almost. She was brought up by a very heathen father and mother, who
never sent her to church or school, and it shows how the sins of the
parents are visited upon the children, mem."
Mr. Fray here drew up his features to the mild degree of melancholy
required when the persons involved in the given misfortune do not
belong to your own family.
"Very well then, Cainey Ball to be under-shepherd. And you quite
understand your duties?--you I mean, Gabriel Oak?"
"Quite well, I thank you, Miss Everdene," said Shepherd Oak from the
doorpost. "If I don't, I'll inquire." Gabriel was rather staggered
by the remarkable coolness of her manner. Certainly nobody without
previous information would have dreamt that Oak and the handsome
woman before whom he stood had ever been other than strangers. But
perhaps her air was the inevitable result of the social rise which
had advanced her from a cottage to a large house and fields. The
case is not unexampled in high places. When, in the writings of the
later poets, Jove and his family are found to have moved from their
cramped quarters on the peak of Olympus into the wide sky above it,
their words show a proportionate increase of arrogance and reserve.
Footsteps were heard in the passage, combining in their character
the qualities both of weight and measure, rather at the expense of
velocity.
(All.) "Here's Billy Smallbury come from Casterbridge."
"And what's the news?" said Bathsheba, as William, after marching to
the middle of the hall, took a handkerchief from his hat and wiped
his forehead from its centre to its remoter boundaries.
"I should have been sooner, miss," he said, "if it hadn't been for
the weather." He then stamped with each foot severely, and on
lookin
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