"Fower or five on 'em," he repeated. "An' one on 'em earnin' eighteen shillin' a week an' forty pound laid by. An' I walked out wi' 'er a bit, I did, sir, but I warn't 'avin' none on 'er when she asked I to marry 'er, an' I told 'er, an' my parents, they was main angry, too, wi' me, they was, sir.
"But there y'are, sir. I didn't want none o' 'er forty pounds, sir, an' you bees got to stick to 'em wen you marries 'em, ben't 'ee, sir?"
The shepherd shook his head.
"No, sir, I don't believe in marryin' no one as you doesn't kind o' like, do 'ee see, sir."
The poet nodded.
"An excellent sentiment," he said.
"Money ben't everything sir, bee 't, as I told 'em, sir, all on 'em. Money ben't everythin'."
"But isn't it—isn't it a little embarrassing to be sought in matrimony by four or five ladies?"
The shepherd paused, between two bites, and looked at the poet, in some bewilderment.
"If 'ee means worrittin', sir—it bees a deal more worrittin' to ask 'em, yourself, sir—fower or five on 'em."