"I'll—run and tell you," said 'Lisbeth.
Neighbor Gilham decided that this would never do, and 'Lisbeth thought him unreasonable enough, but she felt half inclined to stamp her foot at him, and tell him to go home, but he looked so big and idle; he looked too big and idle to get home. She thought it was a pretty business, and so it was. She concluded that she had gone into the hogshead's mouth for nothing, and so she had.
She had much better been picking beans that afternoon, to put in her own mouth, but people who are not contented with doing the right thing in the right place, often fall into worse places than the hogshead's mouth, and get into more business than they care to find.
"Please to tell me what I'm going to do?" inquired 'Lisbeth.
"You are going to run home and mind Trotty," replied neighbor Gilham.
'Lisbeth was indignant enough.
"Dickon can mind Trotty; he's mind'n her now. I'm not a minder."
"I thought you did not look like a minder. Sheep-boys are all minders, every one of them, so run home."
'Lisbeth stood looking at him over her shoulder. She was too indignant for words.
"If you want to grow rich," said neighbor Gilham, a little bit sorry for her—a little bit sorry not to help her in getting into business—"if you want to get rich, go hunt in all the flowers between here and home; maybe you'll find one with a gold heart."