"And why not?" The Ploughman scratched his ear, and carried his glance from my face up to the sky, and down again.
"I dunno," he answered, "but I bean't."
"Yet you whistle gayly enough."
"Why, a man must do summat."
"Then, you seem strong and healthy."
"Yes, I do be fine an' hearty."
"And sleep well?"
"Like a blessed log."
"And eat well?"
"Eat!" he exclaimed, with a mighty laugh. "Lord! I should think so—why, I'm always eatin' or thinkin' of it. Oh, I'm a fine eater, I am—an' I bean't no chicken at drinkin', neither."