“‘Up wi’ the box,’ says one, a-tossin’ it up a’most afore I could get my feet out o’ the way. ‘Here be thy band-box, maidie,’ says another. ‘Now, Jan, make room. Good luck, my dear.’
“’Twas old Tom Meadway as did say that, an’ he no sooner let fall the word than the whole lot of ’em took it up. ’Twas ‘Good luck’ here, and ‘Good luck’ there, and the poor maid pulled about from one side to the other, an’ sich kissin’ I thought she’d be in pieces afore I did have her in my cart.
“At last she got in. Maria did have to go and sit next Mrs. Mayne, and Tamsine Meadway took her place behind Jim Taylor, what sat next I.
“‘Drop us a line so soon as you get to the other side,’ says Mrs. Meadway.
“‘Mind ye tell us what he’s like,’ cries one o’ the maids.
“‘Lard, Tamsine,’ says another, ‘I could wish I was you.’
“Then they did all start a-cheerin’, an’ two of ’em popped their heads in under the shed, laughin’ fit to split, and throwin’ somethin’ at the poor maid, an’ she jumps up an’ throws it out again, an’ then another maid comes an’ throws a handful o’ summat almost into her face.
“‘Come,’ says I, ‘I’d best be gettin’ on, or they’ll make an end on ye, maidie.’ So I touches up Whitefoot, an’ we soon leaves ’em all behind, laughin’ an’ shoutin’.
“‘Ye shouldn’t ha’ thrown back the shoe,’ says Mrs. Mayne to Tamsine; ‘that was for luck, my dear.’
“‘They mid ha’ shown a bit more feelin’,’ says Tamsine, and a body could hear she weren’t far off cryin’.