"'Urt?" he repeated, with a blank stare. "'Ow should I be 'urt?"
"Why, you seemed to fall rather heavily," said I.
At this Job regarded me with a look half resentful, half reproachful, and immediately turned his back upon me; from which, and sundry winks and nods and shakes of the head from the others, it seemed that my remark had been ill-judged. And after we had sat silent for maybe another five minutes, the Ancient appeared to notice Job's presence for the first time.
"Why, you bean't workin' 's arternoon then, Job?" he inquired solemnly.
"Noa!"
"Goin' to tak' a 'olleyday, p'r'aps?"
"Ah! I'm done wi' smithin'—leastways, for Black Jarge."
"And him wi' all that raft o' work in, Job? Pretty fix 'e'll be in wi' no one to strike for 'im!" said Simon.
"Sarves un right tu!" retorted Job, furtively rubbing his left knee.
"But what'll 'e do wi'out a 'elper?" persisted Simon.