“‘So does every man’s family,’ said the sheriff, with a laugh; ‘he’s a happy man that don’t find it so. You haven’t much of a family, Mr. Peg, have you?—if you had my seven daughters to look after—— Well, Mr. Jibbs,—shall we go?’
“They went; and sitting down again in his chair the poor cobbler neglected his work, and bent over it with his head in his hand. At length he got up, put his work away, and left the room. For a while his saw might be heard going at the back of the house; then it ceased, and nothing at all was to be heard for a long time; only a light footstep overhead now and then. The afternoon passed, and the evening came.
“The cobbler was the first to make his appearance. He came in, lighted the fire which had quite died out, and sat down as he had sat before, with his head in his hand. So his little daughter found him. She stepped lightly and he did not hear her till her hand was on his shoulder. Then she asked him what was the matter?
“‘Oh!—nothing that should make me sit so,’ said the cobbler, rousing himself.
“‘We’ve got more fish left yet,’ said Sue.
“‘Yes, dear,—’tisn’t that; but I’ve got to go away to-morrow.’
“‘Away!’ said Sue.
“‘Yes, away to court.’
“‘What for, father?’
“‘Why, they’ve got me down for a juryman, and I’m afraid there’ll be no getting off. The sheriff says there won’t.’