"That's the way you perform actions!" he said; seeming too profoundly struck to be at all wordy. "'Say and Seal' I guess you be! What's the matter with you, Squire?"
"If anything is, I haint heard of it," said Mr. Deacon, with the knife lying heavy against his ribs. "Mr. Linden's turned harness-maker—that's the last news."
"O are you there, Mr. Simlins?" said the new mechanic, looking up from his work.
"Can't be more unlikely than you," said the farmer, beginning on his part to finger the broken harness. "How you come to be here passes all my imagery. That'll do smartly. Where did you learn all trades? I don't see, Squire Deacon, but he's as good at mendin' as you be at marrin'. What do you think?"
"I don't see as one man has much to do with another," said Mr. Deacon lucidly.
"Yes, that will do," said Mr. Linden. "Now Miss Faith—give me that cord if you please, and you shall go after the lynch-pin."
"No," she said pleasantly,—"it'll be done in a minute—I want to finish it."
"When did you get back from York, Squire?" said Mr. Simlins—"and what took you away? I haint heerd yet. I never believed you were gone for good—though folks said it."
"'Taint generally worth while to believe what folks says," replied the Squire. "I've been back three weeks, I guess. Shouldn't wonder if I went again though."
"Shouldn't wonder if you did," said Mr. Simlins. "I would if I was you—if I wanted to. Mr. Linden, it was a providential thing, that you should come along at this idiomatical moment. There aint another man in Pattaquasset would ha' done this so good as you."