The meal was just ready, and Avice had put away her carding, having
finished that kind of work for the day, when a rap at the door was
followed by the lifting of the latch, and the old smith put in his head.

"Any room for a man, have ye?"

"Plenty for you, Uncle Dan," answered Avice heartily; and Bertha's eyes
lighted up at the sight of her father.

Dan came forward and sat down on the stool which Bertha set for him.

"Has it not been a charming day?" said Avice.

"Ay, it's fine weather i' Lincoln," was Dan's dry answer. "Up at
smithy, it's none so bad neither--yet. Just a touch of thunder we had
this morning,--a bit of a grumble i' th' distance like: but I've known
worser storms a deal. Ay, I have so!"

Avice quite understood what kind of storm he meant.

"How do you get on without me, Father?" asked Bertha.

"Well, I'll not say I don't miss thee, my singing bird; but I'm willing,
when it's for thy good. I've got--let me see--two buttons left o' my
blouse, and I think there's one o' my flannel shirt, but I'm none so
sure. It's rather troublesome, for sure, when there's none o' th'
sleeves; they keep for ever a-slippin' up man's arm; but I could put up
wi' that easy if there was nought more. It's true I don't want to pull
'em down while even comes."

"Oh, Father, let me sew you some on!" cried Bertha.

"So thou shall," said Dan. "But I've a bit o' news for thee, lass.
Susanna's to be wed."

"With whom, Uncle?"

"Michael, cartwright, at corner."

"Is it a good match?"

"He's got his match, and she's got hern."

"They are well matched, then," said Bertha, laughing.

"They're a pair," said Dan, grimly. "He's eagre, and she's mustard; and
they'll none mix ill--but they'll set folks' throats a-fire as meddles
wi' 'em."

Eagre is the old English word for vinegar, which is just "wine-eagre."
It means anything sharp and acid.

"Is Aunt Filomena pleased?" asked Avice.

"She's never pleased wi' nothing," was the reply of her unfortunate
husband. "She give him lots o' sauce when he first come, and he's had
another spoonful every time since. He gives it her every bit as hot--I
will say that for him. His mother went by name o' old Maud Touchup, and
he doth her no disfavour. She knew how to hit folks--_she_ did. And
Michael's a chip o' th' old block."

"A little more cabbage, Uncle Dan?"

"Nay, I thank thee. I must be going home, I reckon. Eh, but you're
peaceable here! I reckon man could