"How d'you feel?" asked the farmer. His labourer blushed, then whispered to the waggoner:
"What's 'appened, Mister Collard?"
"Why, you've a-loarst your feet."
For yet another minute the imbecile lay panting, shy, self-conscious under his master's eye—until an idea struck him; once more whispering to the waggoner, he said:
"'Elp me oop. I'll get 'ome, Willy."
"You carn't walk," said the old man simply. "You carn't walk no moar."
Black hairs stiffened suddenly on the idiot's chin; he had understood that in those bleeding, mangled boots his feet were lying; he began to cry. But then, catching sight of his master, smiled as though to apologise——