The swain couldn't say no to that. He had now got hold of her, and would have put his arm round her.
"'Tis for thee to have a word in the matter, father," she shouted all at once in the direction of the house; "this swain here would fain wed me."
And she drew him hastily towards the hut door.
There sat a little grey-clad old fellow, with a cap like a milk-can on his head, staring at the livestock on the mountain-side. He had a large silver jug in front of him.
"'Tis the homestead westward in the Blue Mountains that he's after, I know," said the old man, nodding his head, with a sly look in his eyes.
"Haw, haw! That's what they're after, is it?" thought the swain. But aloud he said, "'Tis a great offer, I know; but methinks 'tis a little hasty too. Down our way 'tis the custom to send two go-betweens first of all to arrange matters properly."
"Thou didst send two before thee, and here they be," quoth she smartly, and produced his drumsticks.
"And 'tis usual with us, moreover, to have a look over the property first; though the lass herself have wit enough and to spare," added he.
Then she all at once grew so small, and there was a nasty green glitter in her eyes---
"Hast thou not run after me the livelong day, and wooed me right down in the enclosure there, so that my father both heard and saw it all?" cried she.