"Ess sure 'e do—tes the tithing cheeld, and now you take un."
Farmer made his appearance with the weakliest of the ten vears squealing in his arms, and the parson made towards him, but the woman was equal to the occasion and stood between them, shouting, "No cheeld, no vear," and that time she had her way, and saved the little pig.
So there arose a saying in the parish that a parson might cheat the devil, but a woman could cheat a parson.
"Every one to his trade," said Guy.
To be "sure for sartin" is an averment of absolute knowledge, but a Cornishman is not often willing to speak to anything in so pronounced a fashion. To be "sure as can be" admits of a loophole and many explanations in the event of error. Something non-committal in the shape of speech suits him best. Things of no consequence become mysterious when screened with secrecy. An ordinary conversation is like this—
"Where are you going?"
"Down along."
"Where to?"