"And I'll warrant my maister," was the answer.—"Young ladies," continued Joe, assuming a lordly air, "ye'd better go into th' house."
"I wonder what for?" inquired Shirley, to whom the overlooker's somewhat pragmatical manners were familiar, and who was often at war with him; for Joe, holding supercilious theories about women in general, resented greatly, in his secret soul, the fact of his master and his master's mill being, in a manner, under petticoat government, and had felt as wormwood and gall certain business visits of the heiress to the Hollow's counting-house.
"Because there is nought agate that fits women to be consarned in."
"Indeed! There is prayer and preaching agate in that church. Are we not concerned in that?"
"Ye have been present neither at the prayer nor preaching, ma'am, if I have observed aright. What I alluded to was politics. William Farren here was touching on that subject, if I'm not mista'en."
"Well, what then? Politics are our habitual study, Joe. Do you know I see a newspaper every day, and two of a Sunday?"
"I should think you'll read the marriages, probably, miss, and the murders, and the accidents, and sich like?"
"I read the leading articles, Joe, and the foreign intelligence, and I look over the market prices. In short, I read just what gentlemen read."
Joe looked as if he thought this talk was like the chattering of a pie. He replied to it by a disdainful silence.
"Joe," continued Miss Keeldar, "I never yet could ascertain properly whether you are a Whig or a Tory. Pray, which party has the honour of your alliance?"