“You be short-handed now, then, be ye?” asked he.
Mrs. Cluett threw back her head with an ironical laugh.
“Short-handed! We be, so to speak, wi’out no hands at all. The last boy
as worked here marched off o’ Saturday. Turned up his nose at his good
victuals, and answered I back when I spoke my mind to him about it. I’m
sure I don’t know where to look for another. And the ’taters bain’t all
in yet, and there’s such a deal to do in this here place.”
Adam Baverstock pushed back his chair and gazed at her for a moment
reflectively.
“I do ’low I mid serve your turn so well as another,” said he, in a
calm and impartial tone, as of one in no way concerned in the issue.
Mrs. Cluett surveyed him dubiously, but Alice surreptitiously nipped
her mother’s elbow.
“Do seem to be a likely chap,” she murmured.
Still with the judicial air befitting one about to conclude a bargain,
Mrs. Cluett put various questions to the would-be assistant, her
countenance brightening perceptibly as she ascertained that he had
some knowledge of the management of cows, his father having kept one
during the latter years of his life, that he knew all about pigs, that
he didn’t care what he turned his hand to, and that he was by no means
particular in the matter of wages.
“I don’t seem to know what to do next,” he explained. “I mid be lookin’
about me here, and I could fill in the time till you can light upon
a man to your likin’. There’s one thing,” he added with that flicker
of the lip which Alice had noted before, “I bain’t one as ’ull ever
give ye impudence--I bain’t one as cares for much talk--I bain’t used
to it, d’ye see. The wold man and me--there! There was weeks when we
didn’t so much as give each other the time o’ day.”
“Dear, to be sure! To think o’ that now,” said Alice, whose tongue was
wont to wag pretty freely. “Wasn’t it terr’ble lonesome for ye?”
“I didn’t ever feel it so,” returned Adam, “there’s a deal o’ company
in the woods, and company as don’t want talkin’ to,” he added with a
laugh.
Mrs. Cluett now proceeded to enter into practical details. Adam’s
bundle contained, it seemed, all his worldly goods, a large wardrobe
having been considered unnecessary in Tewley Warren, and such few
sticks of furniture as the old man possessed having been purchased by
his successor. He was therefore unhampered by any great need for space
in his new quarters; yet he looked round the attic assigned to him with
a clouded face, noting which, his mistress sarcastically inquired if he
didn’t find it big enough.
“Oh, ’tis big enough,” he returned; “big enough if a man can breathe in
it.”