"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?"
"O, I'm all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust I've stirred for two weeks."
"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable."
"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes.
"Poor Granny! How hard that is!"
"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she, "that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could spare."
"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can laugh at the rheumatism."
"Well, mum, what'd be the use to cry? Why, bless ye, there's wus things'n that! As long's I hain't got no husband, I don't feel to complain!"
She shook her sides so heartily at this, that Fly laughed aloud.
"So you don't approve of husbands, Granny?"