"I do hope an' pray as you aren't, my dear soul."
"What else is ah doin'?"
"Tom went down to see'n last night, thought as 'ee might be lonely in that big 'ouse all by 'imself; and Leadville was tellin' 'im he didn't believe in the way missis was farmin'. He'd like to try and see what the land'd grow best. He said—terbacca."
"Terbacca? I should think he was maäze. Never heard tell of such a thing. Whatever next is he gwine grow?"
"He think the land would grow vegetables as 'tis the right sort o' soil and that 'tis wasted in corn."
Sabina gave a feeble snort. "What do 'ee know about soils—a sailor!" She shook her head. "As long as I live he'll never have nothing to do with Wastralls."
Mrs. Rosevear's needles clicked in agreement. "As long as you do live, S'bina."
"Iss, why not me livin'? I 'ent older than he is, and there's no reason I should turn up my trotters first; at least I don't see why I should."
"We'll all live till we die, sure enough; but it's been touch and go lately with you."
"I'll live in spite of'n," said Mrs. Byron.