“Oh, I don’t know. He mid ha’ picked up a stone or summat, or he mid only be lazy—you never can tell wi’ he. Hold up, Diamond. That’s all right; hold up again.”
“There’s a stone,” cried Sol eagerly, “and wedged so tight as anything. ’Tis so big as a happle—I wonder it didn’t throw en.”
“Stand!” cried the girl, still in an exasperated tone, as she deposited the lantern on the ground, and hunted about for a larger stone wherewith to dislodge the pebble which was indeed jammed in Diamond’s hind hoof.
“Here, let me,” said Sol. “Keep your fingers out o’ the way else I’ll be a-hammerin’ o’ they.”
The rays of the lantern, striking upwards, revealed a flashing smile which belied the seeming gruffness of tone and words.
The girl straightened herself and stood back:—“Don’t be long about it, that’s all!” said she. “I’m late as it is—and tired just about!”
“Why, what be you a-doin’ travellin’ the roads so late?” enquired Sol, as he struck at the recalcitrant pebble.
“I do travel the road every day,” returned she. “I do get my livin’ by it. I’m a tranter.”
Sol was so much astonished by the announcement that he was obliged to look up, whereupon Diamond immediately jerked away his hoof.
“I never did hear of a maid bein’ a tranter afore!” remarked the hedger with a grin.