How prettily sounds such raillery on virgin lips. No, no; nothing on earth is so lovely as the confidence between two happy sisters, who have no secrets but those of a guileless love to reveal!
As they strolled into the village, they were met by Peter Dealtry, who was slowly riding home on a large ass which carried himself and his panniers to the neighbouring market in a more quiet and luxurious indolence of action than would the harsher motions of the equine species.
"A fine day, Peter: and what news at market?" said Lester.
"Corn high,—hay dear, your honour," replied the clerk.
"Ah, I suppose so; a good time to sell ours, Peter;—we must see about it on Saturday. But, pray, have you heard any thing from the Corporal since his departure?"
"Not I, your honour, not I; though I think as he might have given us a line, if it was only to thank me for my care of his cat, but—
'Them as comes to go to roam,
Thinks slight of they as stays at home.'"
"A notable distich, Peter; your own composition, I warrant."
"Mine! Lord love your honour, I has no genus, but I has memory; and when them ere beautiful lines of poetry-like comes into my head, they stays there, and stays till they pops out at my tongue like a bottle of ginger- beer. I do loves poetry, Sir, 'specially the sacred."
"We know it,—we know it."