“‘Oh, pray don’t waste your money on I,’ says I, and the tears did spring to my eyes.
“‘That’s true, too,’ said ’Neas to Tom, ‘we ha’n’t had a bite yet, nor so much as a glass o’ beer.’
“It looked as if I were not a-goin’ to have my plate at all, though they’d all been fightin’ who was a-goin’ to give it to I. I’m sure my cheeks was redder than any roses could be, as I stood listenin’ to ’em; and all at once I raised my eyes, and there was John lookin’ across at me. And then I did feel myself go pale, and my head did begin to go round and round, I were that ashamed o’ myself and of all as had been goin’ on. But the next thing I did hear was John’s voice:—
“‘Five shillin’, did ye say? There it is; I’ll take it.’ And in another minute he’d a-put the plate in my hand.
“‘There it be, my maid,’ says he; ‘I don’t think it too much to give since you fancy it.’
“‘Well done!’ cries the folks; ‘here be the right man at last, ’tis the proper spirit for a lover.’ And then they began to clap en on the back, and to laugh, and wish him well, and ax him when the weddin’ was to be, and I don’t know what besides. I did scarce know which way to look, I were that ashamed, and yet that pleased; and John he did pull my hand through his arm, and he did lead I out of the row of booths, and away from the crowd, till we come to a quiet corner of the big field, and there we did sit down, and he did say, smilin’ like:—
“‘Next year ye’ll come to see the harses wi’ me, Maria?’
“‘E—es,’ said I, hanging down my head; ‘I’ll go wherever ye ax me, John.’
“‘Then will ye come to church wi’ me, my maid?’ says he; ‘will ye be my wife, Maria?’
“Ah, that were how we did make it up between us; and he did al’ays say as it were the rosy plate as done it. We were wed before the year were out, and the first thing Stickly did do was to make a place for that there plate upon the dresser. And as years went by and the childern come, he used to lift ’em up to see it. Each did have leave to eat out of it on its birthday—we did use to put a little bit o’ cake upon the rosy plate, and set it by the birthday child; and ye should ha’ seen how j’yful it would look.”
“Ah, sure,” commented Mrs. Andrews. “’Twould be nice to have a bit o’ cake on sich a beautiful plate, wouldn’t it, Walter? That ’ud be a nice birthday treat for any little boy.”