hesied
speedy destruction of all these hopes; and then Gaffer Lezzard
criticised still more forcibly.

"All this big-mouthed talk's cracklin' of thorns under a potsherd,"
hesaid. "You an' him be just two childern playin' at shop in the gutter,
an' the gutter's wheer you'll find yourselves 'fore you think to. What
do the man _knaw?_ Nothin'."

"Blanchard's a far-seein' chap," answered Sam Bonus stoutly. "An' a gude
master; an' us'll stick together, fair or foul."

"You may think it, but wait," said a small man in the corner. Charles
Coomstock, nephew of the widow of that name already mentioned, was a
wheelwright by trade and went lame, owing to an accident with hot iron
in youth.

"Ax Clem," continued Mr. Coomstock. "For all his cranky ways he knaws
Blanchard better'n most of us, an' I heard un size up the chap t'other
day in a word. He said he hadn't wit enough to keep his brains sweet."

"He'm a braave wan to talk," fired back Bonus. "Him! A poor luny as
caan't scrape brass to keep a wife on. Blanchard, or me either, could
crack un in half like a dead stick."

"Not that that's anything for or against," declared Gaffer Lezzard.
"Power of hand's nought against brain."

"It gaws a tidy long way 'pon Dartymoor, however," declared Bonus. "An'
Blanchard doan't set no 'mazin' store on Hicks neither, if it comes to
words. I heard un say awnly t'other forenoon that the man was a weak
saplin', allus grumblin', an' might be better for a gude hiding."

Now Charles Coomstock did not love his cousin Clement. Indeed, none of
those who had, or imagined they had, any shadow of right to a place in
Mary Coomstock's will cared much for others similarly situated; but the
little wheelwright was by nature a spreader of rumours and reports--an
intelligencer, malignant from choice. He treasured this assertion,
therefore, together with one or two others. Sam, now at his third glass,
felt his heart warm to Will. He would have fought with tongue or fist on
his behalf, and presently added to the mischief he had already done.

"To shaw 'e, neighbours, just the man he is, I may tell 'e that a larned
piece like Martin Grimbal ackshually comed all the way to Newtake not
long since to ax advice of un. An' 'twas on the identical matter of this
same Hicks. Mr. Grimbal wanted to give un some work to do, 'bout a book
or some such item; an' Will he ups and sez, 'Doan't,' just short an'
straight like that theer. 'Doan't,' he sez. 'Let un shaw what'