"But theer, us gaws down to the tomb to make way for the new born. I do
say, an' swear tu, that the butivulest things in all wild nachur be a ship
in full sail an' a wummon in the fam'ly way. Ban't nothin' to beat 'em. An'
I'll say it here, 'pon this spot, though the rain's bitin' into my bones
like teeth. So long to 'e, maaster, an' good cheeldin' to 'e, miss!"
The man rolled with loutish gait down the hill; the darkness gathered; the
wind whistled through high hedges on the left; farmer Chirgwin made sounds
of encouragement to his horse, which moved onward; and Joan thought with
curious interest of those things that Billy Jago had said.
"'Tis straange us met that poor, croony antic at sich a moment," mused
Uncle Thomas; "the words of en jag sore 'pon a body's mind, comin' arter
what's in our thots like."
"Maybe 'tis paart o' the queerness o' things as us should fall 'pon en
now," answered Joan.
Then, through a stormy gloaming, they returned in sadness to the high lands
of Drift.
CHAPTER FOUR
A GLEN-ADER
"A new broom sweeps clean, but 'tis the auld wan as is good for corners,"
said Uncle Chirgwin, when with his nieces he sat beside the kitchen fire
that night and discussed the events of the day.
"By which I means," he added, "that these new-fangled ways of approaching
the A'mighty may go to branch and trunk an' make a clean sweep o' evil, but
they leaves the root o' pride stickin' in a man's sawl.
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