"Yes, my dear; but the thing is to stitch it in."
"Lend me your scissors, and I will soon manage it," replied Alrina. "There," continued she, as she ripped off the piece that it had taken Mrs. Brown so long to put in; "that's soon done. Now, lend me your needle and thimble,—I'll put in the piece, while we gossip a little of the latest news imported. Your thimble is too large;—haven't you a smaller one in the house?"
"I believe our maid Polly have got one somewhere," said Mrs. Brown; "I'll sarch for it."
"Poll! Poll! Polly!" said Mr. Brown, catching at the familiar sound: "come out in the stable, Polly,—the mare must want her gruel by this time. Wo! ho! Jessie, my beauty—wo! ho! mare!"
"Will you be quiet, John Brown?" said his wife, as she came downstairs with the thimble.
"Here, Miss Reeney, I s'pose this is too big for your little finger."
"Never mind, Mrs. Brown," said Alrina, who had by this time pinned on the proper piece; "I'll make this do."
The work now went on briskly—Mrs. Brown knitting, and Alrina stitching and gossipping between. While the work was going on, two miners came in, and asked for a pint of beer.
"Let me draw it, Mrs. Brown," said Alrina, putting down her work—"it will be a change of work too."