“For the Frenchers to make hats of. I brings them this much most days,” she answered, looking down on her big bundle.
I must really have been growing up lately, for (for the first time in my life) an instinct of gallantry seized me, and I offered to carry it for her. She declined in rather a hurried manner.
“I’d liefer car’ it myself, thanking you the same. It’s no heft at all, and maybe ye’d shed it about.”
“Not I,” said I, indignantly, my gallantry gone. “Do you think I’ve never carried a truss of straw before? That’s just like a girl. But what’s that in the middle of the bundle?” I continued, eyeing it curiously. “Why, it’s a bone, I believe!”
Frances threw the corner of her apron over the bundle in a very pettish manner, and to my great surprise grew as red as a poppy. What was there to blush about in a bone? Nell struck in hurriedly—
“Yes, of course it’s a bone, Dan. And what could they make their buttons and ivory boxes out of but bone?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said, not liking to suggest “ivory” for fear, as tempers were ruffled, they might leave me outside.
“Then don’t go for to ax silly questions,” retorted Nell. “Can us go in, Roche?”
“Ay, my honies,” returned Roche, the turnkey, whom we had now reached. “Leastwise you and Fan can, in the coorse of natur; but who be this young crut?” [209]
“Oh, missus’ nevvy he be, as wants to see the Frenchers at work. ’Tis only a young boy, but we’d just as lief let him stay if you’d liefer not let him in.”