er. They are so
queer sometimes. Turn 'em about, and you can make them mean almost
anything."

Gerhardt smiled rather sadly, as he rose and put away his carving on one
of the broad shelves that ran round the house-place, and served the uses
of tables and cupboards.

"Words can easily be twisted," he said, "either by ignorance or malice.
But he is a coward that will deny his words as he truly meant them. God
help me to stand to mine!"

"Well, you'd better mind what I tell you about your preaching,"
responded Haimet. "Leave preaching to the priests, can't you? It is
their business, not a weaver's. You keep to your craft."

"Had you not once a preacher here named Pullus?" asked Gerhardt, without
replying to the question.

"I think I have heard of him," said Haimet, "but he was before my time."

"I have been told that he preached the Word of God in this city years
ago," said Gerhardt.

"Whom did you say? Cardinal Pullus?" asked Isel, standing up from her
cooking. "Ay, he did so! You say well, Haimet, it was before your day;
you were only beginning to toddle about when he died. But I've listened
to him many a time at Saint Martin's, and on Presthey, too. He used to
preach in English, so that the common folks could understand him. Many
professed his doctrines. I used to like to hear him, I did--when I was
younger. He said nice words, though I couldn't call 'em back now. No,
I couldn't."

"I am sorry to hear it; I rather hoped you could," replied Gerhardt.

"Bless you! I never heard aught of that sort yet, that I could tell you
again, a Paternoster after I'd gone forth of the door. Words never stay
with me; they run in at one ear and out at the other. Seem to do me
good, by times; but I never can get 'em back again, no more than you can
the rain when it has soaked into the ground."

"If the rain and the words bring forth good fruit, you get them back in
the best way of all," said Gerhardt. "To remember the words in your
head only, were as fruitless as to gather up rain-drops from the stone
or metal into which they cannot penetrate."

"Well, I never had nought of a head-piece," returned Isel. "I've heard
my mother tell that I had twenty wallopings ere she could make me say
the Paternoster; and I never could learn nought else save the Joy and
the Aggerum."

"What do you mean by the `Aggerum,' Mother?" inquired Haimet.

"Well, isn't that what you call it? Aggerum or Adjerum, or some such
outl