"But a little rakish, hey? I own to it. Master Cantle is that, or he's nothing. Yet 'tis a gay fault, neighbour Fairway, that age will cure."
"I heard that they were coming home to-night. By this time they must have come. What besides?"
"The next thing is for us to go and wish 'em joy, I suppose?"
"Well, no."
"No? Now, I thought we must. I must, or 'twould be very unlike me—the first in every spree that's going!
"Do thou´ put on´ a fri´-ar's coat´,
And I'll´ put on´ a-no´-ther,
And we´ will to´ Queen Ele´anor go´,
Like Fri´ar and´ his bro´ther.
"Do thou´ put on´ a fri´-ar's coat´,
And I'll´ put on´ a-no´-ther,
And we´ will to´ Queen Ele´anor go´,
Like Fri´ar and´ his bro´ther.
"I met Mis'ess Yeobright, the young bride's aunt, last night, and she told me that her son Clym was coming home a' Christmas. Wonderful clever, 'a believe—ah, I should like to have all that's under that young man's hair. Well, then, I spoke to her in my well-known merry way, and she said, 'O that what's shaped so venerable should talk like a fool!'—that's what she said to me. I don't care for her, be jowned if I do, and so I told her. 'Be jowned if I care for 'ee,' I said. I had her there—hey?"
"I rather think she had you," said Fairway.
"No," said Grandfer Cantle, his countenance slightly flagging. "'Tisn't so bad as that with me?"