Toby smiled archly at me, and winked.
“Daddy, are you going home or not? Jist look at the rain comin’.”
Toby smiled and winked.
“Well, I do think a drunken man is the biggest fool in the county,” said Bill, “I don’t care who he is.”
“Bill!” said the old man, very sternly, “ ‘honour thy father and thy mother,’ that—that the woman’s seed may bruise the serpent’s head.”
“Well, daddy, tell me if you won’t go home! You see it’s going to rain powerful. If you won’t go, may I go?”
“Bill; ‘Leave not thy father who begot thee; for thou art my beloved son Esau, in whom I am well pleased.’ ”
“Why, daddy, it’s dropping rain now.”
Here Bill was relieved from his anxiety by the appearance of Aaron, a trusty servant, whom Mrs. Slow had despatched for his master, to whose care Bill committed him, and was soon out of sight.
Aaron’s custom had long been to pick up his master without ceremony, put him on his horse, and bear him away. So used to this dealing had Toby been, that when he saw Aaron, he surrendered at discretion, and was soon on the road. But as the rain descended in torrents, before even Bill could have proceeded half a mile, the whole of them must have been drenched to the skin.