"Nothing,—only a sprain."
"You must heat an iron in the fire, and plunge it red-hot into the water, then put your arm in the water as hot as you can bear it. It is an iron-dealer's remedy, but none the worse for that."
"Thank ye, Father Micou."
"Go and fetch the flap, and I'll come and help you, idle-bones."
At twice the copper was brought out of the cart, drawn by an enormous dog, and conveyed into the shop.
"That cart of yours is a good idea," said the worthy Micou, as he adjusted the wooden frames of an enormous pair of scales that hung from a beam in the ceiling.
"Yes; when I've anything to bring, I put my dog and cart into the punt, and harness them as we come along. A hackney-coach might, perhaps, tell a tale, but my dog never chatters."
"And they're all pretty well at home,—eh?" inquired the receiver, weighing the copper; "mother and sister, both pretty bobbish?"
"Yes, Father Micou."
"And the little uns?"