“Not going abroad to join your friends?”
“I think not.”
“I am glad to hear that. ‘Dwell among your own people,’ Roma.”
“You will come to see me soon?”
“To-morrow, my dear.”
“Then I will not detain you any longer, dear friend. You must be fatigued with this long service. Indeed, you should have an assistant.”
“The parish can’t afford it, my dear.”
“But you are being worked to death!”
“Well, it is better to rub out in labor than rust out in laziness.”
“But you needn’t do either,” put in Owlet. “No, nor you won’t, neither, if you are possessed of common sense. ‘There’s reason in roasting eggs.’”