OF ONE EXCURSION AND MANY ALARUMS.
"Caleb!" said Mr. Fogo on the morning after Miss Limpenny's party.
"Aye, aye, sir!" Caleb paused in his carpentering to look up.
"It is a lovely morning; I think I will take my easel and go for a walk. You are sure that the crowds have gone at last?"
"All gone, sir. Paice and quiet at last—as Bill said when he was left a widow. Do 'ee want me to go 'long wi' 'ee, sir?"
"No, thank you, Caleb. I shall go along the hills on this side of the river."
"You'd best let me come, sir, or you'll be wool-gatherin' and wand'rin' about till goodness knows what time o' night."
"I shall be back by four o'clock."
"Stop a minnit, sir; I have et. I'll jest put that alarmin' clock o' yourn in your tail-pocket an' set et to ha'f-arter-dree, an' that'll put you in mind when 'tes time to come hom'. 'Tes a wonnerful in-jine, this 'ere clock," reflected Caleb as he carefully set the alarum, "an' chuck-full o' sense, like Malachi's cheeld. Lor', what a thing es Science, as Jenifer said when her seed the tellygrarf-clerk in platey buttons an' red facin's to his breeches. Up the path, sir, an' keep to the left. Good-bye, sir! Now, I'd gie summat," soliloquised Caleb as he watched his master ascend the hill, "to be sure of seein' him back safe an' sound afore nightfall. Aw dear! 'tes a terrable 'sponsible post, bein' teetotum to a babby!"
With this he walked back to the house, but more than once halted on his way to ponder and shake his head ominously.