"Nay," said Reuben, shaking his head; "when the dog goes, Reuben'll go too. No mistake about that. He's been my luck, and when they take him they take me."
"Ah, well, you aren't either of you going yet a while," said I, consolingly. "There's lots of life in you both."
"Ay, miss, ay," grinned the old man, well pleased. "We sent the sheep home last night, Luck and I; didn't we, old boy? Beale he have taken his sweetheart on a spree somewhere out Eastbourne way, and he asked me to see to the folding. I'm spry in the summer-time, and I was pleased enough. But I wouldn't have none o' them ondependable, skittish young uns. Not I."
"Whom do you mean?" I asked.
"Nay, I place no dependence on young things," repeated he, doggedly. "They're sure to have their eye on a bit of fun somewheres, and they be allays for trying new dodges. Now, Luck he's safe and he's sure. He's got sperience, Luck has. He knows."
He nodded his head to and fro with an air of profound wisdom, and I burst out laughing.
It did me good. I had not laughed that day.
"What? You mean the young sheep-dog, I suppose?" I said.
"Ay, miss," answered Reuben. "A 'andsome young chap enough, but ondependable." He paused, waiting for me to speak, but I saw whither he was drifting, and was silent. "There's others besides dogs as is ondependable!" he added, slowly. "Such as we durstn't understand the ways o' them that are learned. Nay, would we presume? But there's others as is ondependable. Poor master! But the Lord knows what is best for us all."
"Well, He is sending us glorious weather for the crops, anyway," said I, with determined cheerfulness. "It's quite too hot for me."