"Whot would ye do fo me, Alizon, if ye were a queen?" asked little Jennet, looking up at her.
"Why, let me see," was the reply; "I'd indulge every one of your whims and wishes. You should only need ask to have."
"Poh—poh—yo'd never content her," observed Elizabeth, testily.
"It's nah your way to try an content me, mother, even whon ye might," rejoined Jennet, who, if she loved few people, loved her mother least of all, and never lost an opportunity of testifying her dislike to her.
"Awt o'pontee, little wasp," cried her mother; "theaw desarves nowt boh whot theaw dustna get often enough—a good whipping."
"Yo hanna towd us whot yo'd do fo yurself if yo war a great lady, Alizon?" interposed Susan.
"Oh, I haven't thought about myself," replied the other, laughing.
"Ey con tell ye what she'd do, Suky," replied little Jennet, knowingly; "she'd marry Master Richard Assheton, o' Middleton."
"Jennet!" exclaimed Alizon, blushing crimson.
"It's true," replied the little girl; "ye knoa ye would, Alizon, Look at her feace," she added, with a screaming laugh.