There was a moment of heavy silence; then Gregory Libby spoke.
"Doan't say nothin' 'bout what we've planned out to-day. Doan't tell nobody. Time enough come Spring."
"Say nought! I'd like to go up 'pon top the hill an' sing out my gude fortune for all ears to hear!"
"No, bide quiet. Us'll let 'em have the gert surprise of it in church. None shall knaw till we'm axed out some Sunday marnin'."
"'Twill bust upon 'em like thunder. I lay Margery will faint if she'm theer."
"An' us'll have the laugh of 'em all."
"'Tis as you please, Greg."
"An' you'll take your oath not to tell?"
"Not even mistress?"
"Certainly not she."