“Ay,” replied the priest.
“Was she one ’at took th’ andirons to you when you didn’t suit her?”
“Truly, no. She was a full good and gentle woman.”
“And had ye e’er a sister?”
“Ay; three.”
“Was they given to rugging your hair when they wasn’t pleased?”
“Not at all, my son.”
“Ah! you’d best go home, I reckon.”
“What meanest thou?” asked Father Thomas, feeling much amused at the very unusual style of Dan’s reception.
“Well!” said Dan, passing his fingers through his hair, “I mean, if that’s the way you was fetched up, you don’t know the animal you’ve got to deal with here. There’s five dragons i’ that house o’ mine: and each on ’em’s got teeth and claws, and they knows how to use ’em, they does. If one on ’em wern’t a bit better nor t’others, and did not come and stand by me now and then, I should ne’er ha’ lived to talk to you this even. Nay, I shouldn’t! Best go home, Father, while you’ve getten a coat on your back, and some hair on your head.”