And then said Mrs. Bumpkin,—still dubious as to the policy of the proceedings, but too loving to combat her husband upon them,—“When be thee gwine agin, Tom?”
“I doan’t rightly know,” said Bumpkin. “Mr. Prigg will let I know; sometime in May, I reckon.”
“Dear, dear!” said Mrs. Bumpkin; “it may be on, then, just as th’ haymakin’s about.”
“Lor, lor! no, dearie; it’ll be over long enough afore.”
“Doan’t be too sure, Tom; it be a long time now since it begun.”
“Ah!” said Tom, “a long time enough; but it’ll be in th’ paper afore long now; an’ we got one o’ the cleverest counsel in Lunnun?”
“Danged if I know, but it be one o’ the stunninest men o’ the day; two on ’em, by Golly; we got two, Nancy.”
“Who be th’ tother? p’r’aps thee med mind his name?”
“Noa, I doan’t mind his name nuther. Now, what d’ye think o’ thic?”
Mrs. Bumpkin laughed, and said, “I think it be a rum thing that thee ’as counsellors and doan’t mind their names.”
And then the conversation turned upon Joe, whose place was vacant in the old chimney corner.
The tears ran down Mrs. Bumpkin’s rosy cheeks as she said for the twentieth time since Mr. Bumpkin’s return,—
“He wur a fool!” said Bumpkin, “and I told un so. So as I warned un about thic Sergeant; the artfullest man as ever lived, Nancy.”
Mrs. Bumpkin wiped her eyes. “He wur a good boy, wur Joe, goo where ur wool; but, Tom, couldn’t thee ’a’ kept thine eye on un when thee see thic Sergeant hoverin’ roun’ like a ’awk arter a sparrer?”
“I did keep eye on un, I tell ’ee; but what be the good o’ thic; as well keep thee eye on th’ sparrer when th’ hawk be at un. I tell ’ee I ’suaded un and warned un, and begged on un to look out.”
“Up to un,” repeated Mrs. Bumpkin. “Can’t think ’ow ur got ’old on un.”
“No, and thee mark I, no more can nobody else—in Lunnon thee’re ’ad afore thee knows where thee be.”
And now Mr. Bumpkin had his “little drop of warm gin and water before going to bed”: and Mrs. Bumpkin had a mug of elder wine, for the Christmas elder wine was not quite gone: and after that Mrs. Bumpkin, who as the reader knows, was the better scholar of the two, took down from a shelf on which the family documents and books were kept, a large old bible covered with green baize. Then she wiped her glasses, and after turning over the old brown leaves until she came to the place where she had read last before Tom went away, commenced her evening task, while her husband smoked on and listened.