“Oh, he’s one of the biggest fools that ever walked,” she cried.
“There you are!” said I.
“But it’s his child right enough,” she said.
“I don’t think so,” said I.
“I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, well,” I said, “if you prefer to think that way.”
“What other reason has she for writing like that—”
I went out into the road and looked at the cattle.
“Who is this driving the cows?” I said. She too came out.
“It’s the boy from the next farm,” she said.