“They won’t fetch nothin’.”
“They might. ‘Knife sharper; screen; pot plants; 1 towel-rail; 1 runner; 2 forms; kitchen table; scales and weights and beam; 1 set of casters; 4 farm horses, aged; 3 ploughs; 1 hay wain; 1 stack of dry fern; 1-1/2 tons good manure; old iron and other sundries, including poultry, ducks, geese, and fowls.’ That’s all.”
“Not quite; but I caan’t call to mind much you’ve left out ’cept all the china an’ linen.”
“Ah! that’s your job. An’ I just sit here an’ brought the things to my memory, wan by wan! An’ that bit at the top came easy as cutting a stick!”
“’Tis a wonnerful piece o’ work! An’ the piano, Will?”
“I hadn’t forgot that. Must take it along wi’ us, or else send it down to mother. Couldn’t look her in the faace if I sold that.”
“Ban’t worth much.”
“Caan’t say. Cost faither five pound, though that was long ago. Anyway I be gwaine to buy it in.”
Silence then fell upon them. Phoebe sighed and shivered. A cock crew and his note came muffled from the hen-roost. A dim grey dawn just served to indicate the recumbent carcasses without.
“Come to bed now an’ take a little rest ’fore marnin’, dearie. You’ve worked hard an’ done wonders.”