lop-sided,
like his figure, and his speech came in a hollow mumble which was
difficult to follow. Joseph was content to pass as the harmless lunatic
of the parish, but there was a shrewdly humorous twinkle in his eye
which damaged his pretensions with the more discerning sort of people.

"I do not want to know what you said yesterday," his lordship answered,
tartly. "Take up the billhook and the saw. Now bring the ladder."

"What I said yesterday," mumbled Joseph, shambling by the nobleman's
side, a little in the rear.

"Joseph Beaker," said the earl, "hold your tongue."

"Niver could do it," replied Joseph; "it slips from betwixt the thumb
and finger like a eel. What I said yesterday was, 'Why doesn't thee set
thy watch by the parish church?' Thee'st got Barfield time, I reckon,
and Barfield's allays a wick and ten minutes afore other placen."

The aged nobleman twinkled and took snuff.

"Joseph," said his lordship, "I am going to make a new arrangement with
you."

"Time you did," returned Joseph, pausing, ostensibly to shift the ladder
from one shoulder to the other, but really to feign indifference.

"I find ninepence a day too much."

"I've allays said so," Joseph answered, shambling a little nearer. "A
sinful sight too much. And half on it wasted o' them white garmints."

"I find myself a little in want of exercise," said his lordship. "I
shall carry the ladder from the first tree to the second, and you will
carry it from the second to the third; then I shall carry it again, and
then _you_ will carry it again. We shall go on in that way the whole
afternoon, and shall continue in that way so long as I stay here."

Joseph laughed. It was in his laugh that he chiefly betrayed the
shortcomings of character. His smile was dry and full of cunning, but
his laugh was fatuous.

"Naturally," pursued the earl, "I shall not pay you full wages for
a half-day's work." Joseph's face fell into a look of ludicrous
consternation. "I shall be generous, however--I shall be generous. I
shall give you sixpence. Sixpence a day, Joseph, and I shall do half the
work myself."

"It ar'n't to be done, gaffer," said Joseph, resolutely stopping short,
and setting up the ladder in the roadway.

The old nobleman turned to face him with pretended anger.

"You are impertinent, Joseph."

"It caw't be done, my lord," his assistant mumbled, thrusting his head
through a space in the ladder.

"Times are hard, Joseph," returned his l