“Well, Collet! You’ve a brave fardel yonder!”
“I’ve six lads and two lasses, neighbour,” said Collet with a laugh. “Takes a sight o’ cloth, it do, to clothe ’em.”
“Be sure it do! Ay, you’ve a parcel of ’em. There’s only my man and Titus at our house. Wasn’t that Mistress Benden that parted from you but now? She turned off a bit afore I reached her.”
“Ay, it was. She’s a pleasant neighbour.”
“She’s better than pleasant, she’s good.”
“Well, I believe you speak sooth. I’d lief you could say the same of her master. I wouldn’t live with Master Benden for a power o’ money.”
“Well, I’d as soon wish it too, for Mistress Benden’s body; but I’m not so certain sure touching Mistress Benden’s soul. ’Tis my belief if Master Benden were less cantankerous, Mistress wouldn’t be nigh so good.”
“What, you hold by the old rhyme, do you—?
“‘A spaniel, a wife, and a walnut tree,
The more they be beaten, the better they be.’”
“Nay, I’ll not say that: but this will I say, some folks be like camomile—‘the more you tread it, the more you spread it.’ When you squeeze ’em, like clover, you press the honey forth: and I count Mistress Benden’s o’ that sort.”