'There's nought to do.'
Edward remembered his creed.
'I should pray, Hazel.'
'What good'd that do?'
'God answers prayers.'
'That He dunna! Or where'd the fox-hunting gents be, and who'd have rabbit-pie? I dunna see as He can answer 'em.'
'Little girls mustn't bother their pretty heads.'
'If you'd found as many creatures in traps as me, and loosened 'em, and seed their broken legs, and eyes as if they'd seed ghosses, and onst a dog caught by the tongue—eh! you'd bother! You would that! And feyther killing the pigs Good Fridays.'
'Why Good Fridays, of all days?'
'That was the day. Ah! every Good Friday I was used to fight feyther!'