At that point of the story where Joe had triumphantly pocketed his last five shillings, and gone home reflecting on what a "famous job it would be to sell all the stones on their fell at five shillings a little bagful," Mrs. Sandal entered. A servant followed with spiced wine and dainty bits of cake and pastry; and then, after a merry interval of comment and refreshment, Sophia resumed the narrative.
All this happened at the end of May, Miss Sandal; and one day last August father went down Lorton way, and it was gayly late when he got home. As he was sitting on his own side the fire, trying to loose the buttons of his spats, he said to Joe, "I called at Skeàl-Hill on my road home." Mother was knitting at her side of the hearth. She hadn't opened her mouth since father came home; nay, she hadn't so much as looked at him after the one hard glower that she gave him at first; but when he said he'd been at Skeàl-Hill, she gave a grunt, and said, as if she spoke to nobody but herself, "Ay, a blind body might see that."—"I was speaking to Joe," said father. "Joe," said he again, "I was at Skeàl-Hill,"—mother gave another grunt then,—"and they told me that thy old friend the jolly-jist is back again. I think thou had better step down, and see if he wants to buy any more broken stones; old Abraham has a fine heap or two lying aside Kirgat." Joe thought he had done many a dafter thing than take father at his word, whether he meant it or not; and so thought, so done, for next morning he took himself off to Skeàl-Hill.
When he got there, and asked if the jolly-jist was stirring yet, one servant snorted, and another grunted, till Joe got rather maddish; but at last one of them skipjacks of fellows, that wear a little jacket like a lass's bedgown, said he would see. He came back laughing, and said, "Come this way, Joe." Well, our Joe followed him till he stopped before a room door; and he gave a little knock, and then opened it, and says he, "Joe, sir." Joe wasn't going to stand that; and he said, "'Joe, sir,' he'll ken its 'Joe, sir,' as soon as he sees the face of me. And get out with thy 'Joe, sir,' or I'll make thee laugh at the wrong side of that ugly face of thine." With that the fellow skipped out of our Joe's way gayly sharp, and Joe stepped quietly into the room.
There the little old gentleman was sitting at a table writing,—gray hair, spectacles, white neck-cloth, black clothes,—just as if he had never either doffed or donned himself since he went away. But before Joe could put out his hand, or say a civil word to him, he glinted up at Joe through his spectacles very fierce like, and grunted out something about wondering how Joe durst show his face again. Well, that put the cap on all for poor Joe. He had thought over what father said, and how he said it, on his road down till he found himself getting rather mad about it; and the way they all snorted and laughed when he came to Skeàl-Hill made him madder; and that bedgown fellow, with his "Joe, sir," made him madder than ever; but when the old jolly-jist—that he thought would be so fain to see him, if it was only for the sake of their sprogue on the fells together—when he wondered "how Joe durst show his face there," it set Joe rantin' mad, and he did make a burst.
At this point the squire was laughing so noisily that Sophia had to stop; and his hearty ha, ha, ha! was so contagious, that Harry and Julius and Charlotte, and even Mrs. Sandal, echoed it in a variety of merry peals. Sophia was calmer. She sat by the lamp, pleasantly conscious of the amusement she was giving; and, considering that she had already laughed the circumstance out in her room, quite as well entertained as any of the party. In a few minutes the squire recovered himself. "Let us have the rest now, Sophia. I'd have given a gold guinea to have heard Joe's 'burst.'"
"Show my face?" said Joe; "and what should I show, then? If it comes to showing faces, I've a better face to show than ever belonged to one of your breed, if the rest of them are aught like the sample they have sent us. But if you must know," said Joe, "I come of a stock that never would be frightened to show their face to a king, let alone an old noodles that calls himself a jolly-jist. And I defy the face of clay," said Joe, "to show that any of us ever did aught he need to be ashamed of, wherever we show our faces. Dare to show my face, eh?" said Joe again, "My song! but this is a bonnie welcome to give a fellow that has come so far to see you such a hot morning." Joe said a deal more of the same make; and all the time he was saying it, the old man laid himself back in his great chair, and kept twiddling his thumbs, and glancing up at Joe with a half-smirk on his face, as if he had got something very funny before him.
"Joe is like all these shepherd lads," said the squire, "as independent as never was. They are a manly race, but the Bulteels all come of a good kind."
Julius laughed scornfully, but the squire took him up very short. "You need not laugh, nephew. It is as I say. The Bulteels are as good stock as the Sandals; a fine old family, and, like the Sandals, at home here when the Conqueror came. Joe would do the right thing I'll be bound. Let us hear if he didn't, Sophia."
After a while Joe stopped, for he had run himself very near short of wind; and he began rather to think shame of shouting and bellering so at an old man, and him as whisht as a trout through it all. And when Joe pulled in, he only said, as quietly as ever was, that Joe was a "natural curiosity."
Joe didn't know very well what this meant; but he thought it was sauce, and it had like to have set him off again; but he beat himself down as well as he could, and he said, "Have you any thing against me? If you have, speak it out like a man; and don't sit there twiddling your thumbs, and calling folks out of their names in this road." Then it came out plain enough. All this ill-nature, Miss Sandal, was just because poor Joe hadn't brought him the same stones as he had gathered on the fells; and he said that changing them was either a very dirty trick, or a very clumsy joke.