| [1] | Played marbles. |
CHAPTER III
IN WHICH MANIWEL DRAKE MAKES A SUGGESTION
THE cottage had its full complement of occupants when Jagger entered, and the noise of his “bass” as he dropped it on the stone floor and pushed it noisily with his foot alongside an old-fashioned chest of drawers that stood against the wall, caused each of them to look up. Hannah, his sister and the family housekeeper, turned again at once to the grid-iron on which something was grilling for the evening meal; but the father’s eyes fixed themselves on the young man’s face.
“That’s right, lad,” he said, as he let the weekly paper he had been reading fall to his knees; “take it out of t’ bass! It’s as meek as Moses and’ll say naught. Who’s been treading on your corns this time?”
“T’ bass may lie there while I find another job,” said Jagger surlily, untying his apron as he spoke. “I’m paid off. Baldwin’s stalled, and so am I.”
Hannah said nothing, but an exclamation came from the other side of the hearth where Grannie Drake was busy with her darning needles—a wordless exclamation produced by the tip of the tongue and the roof of the mouth in conjunction; and the old woman rested her hands on her lap whilst she turned her spectacled eyes on her grandson.
“Stalled of each other, are you?” It was the father who spoke and there was humour in his voice and in the eyes that scrutinised the other’s face. “Well, bad news’ll keep. Get you washed and we’ll have our tea; and then if you think you’ve got to make all our coffins ’cause Baldwin’s sacked you I’ll help you to take t’ measures.”
Jagger’s face clouded more heavily and Hannah stole a glance at it as her brother opened the scullery door; but he avoided her gaze; and she wheeled round and looked into her father’s eyes with a smile on her lips that was both question and comment. Maniwel had picked up his paper again and was apparently engaged with its contents but the smile reached his consciousness and he glanced up and met his daughter’s eyes.
“You two ought to have changed places,” he said with grim pleasantry, “Jagger’d have made a good lass.”