Jagger smiled and ungrudgingly admitted that he couldn’t have done better work himself, but Baldwin had to be summoned a second time before he approached.
“Does tha hear, Baldwin? I’m waiting to hear tha say it’ll do!”
The breezy, encouraging note in Maniwel’s voice brought Baldwin from the shadows.
“It ails naught ’at I see on,” he said; “but it’s making game o’ me to ask for my opinion, when you know better’n I do.”
There was a trace of peevishness in the reply, and he would have turned again to his work if Maniwel had not arrested him.
“Nay, that willn’t do, Baldwin! Tha’s none going to get out o’ thi responsibilities i’ that fashion. We’re a limited comp’ny o’ three and I brade o’ t’ parsons i’ thinking ’at three heads is better than two. I know there’s such things as figure-heads; but neither thee nor me is ornimental enough for that job. Now just cast thi eye over t’ job, same as if a ’prentice had done it and then speak thi mind.”
“There’s no sense i’ this sort o’ play-acting, Maniwel,” said Baldwin; but he bent forward and examined the work carefully.
“Tha’s missed a piece o’ t’ underside o’ this bit o’ moulding,” he remarked a moment or two later; “—there’s an inch or so wi’ no polish on’t.”
Jagger shot a glance at his father and caught the wink which was intended for him alone.
“Well, that licks all!” said Maniwel, when he had assured himself that the criticism was just. “I wouldn’t ha’ liked Mr. Harris to ha’ picked that out, and it’s a good job that eye o’ thine isn’t dimmed Baldwin. Is there aught else, thinks tha?”