“Please, sir—”
“I says you can’t go to church now. You must learn to think a little of others, lad. You sees how I sweats to serve the squire! and you must serve him too. Why, your mother’s got the house and premishes almost rent-free; you ought to have a grateful heart, Leonard Fairfield, and feel for his honour! Poor man! his heart is well-nigh bruk, I am sure, with the goings on.”
Leonard opened his innocent blue eyes, while Mr. Stirn dolorously wiped his own.
“Look at that ‘ere dumb cretur,” said Stirn, suddenly, pointing to the stocks,—“look at it. If it could speak, what would it say, Leonard Fairfield? Answer me that! ‘Damn the stocks,’ indeed!”
“It was very bad in them to write such naughty words,” said Lenny, gravely. “Mother was quite shocked when she heard of it this morning.”
MR. STIRN.—“I dare say she was, considering what she pays for the premishes;” (insinuatingly) “you does not know who did it,—eh, Lenny?”
LENNY.—“No, sir; indeed I does not!”
MR. STIRN.—“Well, you see, you can’t go to church,—prayers half over by this time. You recollex that I put them stocks under your ‘sponsibility,’ and see the way you’s done your duty by ‘em! I’ve half a mind to—”
Mr. Stirn cast his eyes on the eyes of the stocks. “Please, sir,” began Lenny again, rather frightened.
“No, I won’t please; it ben’t pleasing at all. But I forgives you this time, only keep a sharp lookout, lad, in future. Now you must stay here—no, there—under the hedge, and you watches if any persons comes to loiter about, or looks at the stocks, or laughs to hisself, while I go my rounds. I shall be back either afore church is over or just arter; so you stay till I comes, and give me your report. Be sharp, boy, or it will be worse for you and your mother; I can let the premishes for L4 a year more to-morrow.”