"So says I too," agreed Brewer; "no wonder his shoulders air humped. But you never hears as much as a grunt from him. He knows he ain't never give her no bringin's up, that's why."
"Some folks has give their kids bringin's up," interposed Ben Letts with a glance at the third man, who was industriously cleaning fish and had not yet spoken. "And they hain't turned out no better than Tessibel will."
At this the industrious one turned.
"I spose ye be a hittin' at my poor Myry, Ben," he muttered. "I spose ye be, but God'll some time let me kill the man, and then ye won't be hittin' at her no more, 'cause there won't be nothin' to hit at. It air dum hard to keep a girl from the wrong way, love her all ye will."
For an instant Ben Letts dropped his head.
"We always wondered who he was, but more wonder has been goin' on why ye ain't made no offer to find the fellow."
"Ain't had no time," said the desperate cleaner of fish; "had to get bread and beans, to say nothin' of bacon."
"But why didn't ye send the brat to the workhouse?" asked Jake.
"Satisfied" Longman, as he was called, shook his head.
"I was satisfied to let it stay," was all he answered.