"Three years come Easter," said Jabez.
"And how lang dusta say 'at missis has been here?"
"Missis? I heard father say as Mistress Drayton has kep' the Hawk and Heron this five-and-twenty year."
"Five-and-twenty! Then I reckon that master would be no'but a laal wee barn when she coomt first," said Gubblum.
"Happen he were," said Jabez. Then, recovering the caution so unexpectedly disturbed, Jabez protested afresh that he had no master.
"It's slow wark suppen buttermilk wi' a pitchfork," thought Gubblum, and he proceeded to employ a spoon.
"Sista, my lad, wadsta like me to lend thee a shilling?"
Jabez grinned, and closed his fat fist on the coin thrust into his palm.
"I once knew a man as were the varra spitten picter of your master," said Gubblum. "In fact, his varra sel', upsett'n and doon thross'n. I thowt it were hissel', that's the fact. But when I tackled him he threept me down, and I was that vexed I could have bitten the side out of a butter-bowl."
"But I ain't got no master," protested Jabez.