"So 'andsome as a picter she be!" said the Ancient suddenly.
"She is fairer than any picture," said I impulsively, "and what is better still, her nature is as sweet and beautiful as her face!"
"'Ow do 'ee know that?" said George, turning sharply upon me.
"My eyes and ears tell me so, as yours surely must have done long ago,"
I answered.
"Ye do think as she be a purty lass, then, Peter?" inquired the Ancient.
"I think," said I, "that she is the prettiest lass I ever saw; don't you think so, George?" But again George's only answer was to choke.
"Smoke again, Jarge?" inquired the Ancient.
"Ay," said George, as before.
"'Tis a fine thing to be young," said the Ancient, after a somewhat lengthy pause, and with a wave of his long pipe-stem, "a very fine thing!"
"It is," said I, "though we generally realize it all too late."