"Here's my little pet," she cried jubilantly"
"Then, in the name of furtin have your fancy, woman! Give it a name, and I'll get it for 'ee."
"Oh, in course, if ye put it that way," he returned, huffily, "I haven't got a word to say. I al'ays thought 'twas a wife's dooty to help her husband, but since it seems to be a favour, I'm sure I did ought to be very grateful. Thank ye kindly, ma'am! P'r'aps ye'll be so good as to shut up that beautiful pet o' yourn now, and give me a bit o' breakfast, if it bain't troublin' ye too much."
"Oh, go on, Joseph!" exclaimed Mrs. Bold, with heightening colour, turning Blackbird about as she spoke, and propelling him before her towards the stall. "I couldn't do nothin' else nor want to keep him," she added in an aggrieved tone, "when he come to the dairy door—he come actually to the dairy door!—same as if he knowed 'twas his last chance."
The farmer did not answer, but in spite of himself a dawning expression of interest was perceptible on his face.
"'E-es, an' he must ha' broke through a hedge to get out; he be cut about terrible wi' thorns."
"They did padlock th' gate when I sent en back last time," returned Joseph gruffly, adding, in the same tone, "Ye'd better sponge they sore places a bit after breakfast, and get dust out of 'em."
Mrs. Bold installed Blackbird in his old quarters, and hastened to the house.
The meal which ensued was at first a somewhat silent one. In spite of her satisfaction at having gained her point, Mrs. Bold felt somewhat remorseful for the tactics she had employed; and her husband stolidly munched his bread and bacon with a solemn, not to say gloomy, countenance.