The door was flung back till it kicked the wall and trembled from top to bottom with the blow. Mr Oak appeared in the entry with a steaming face, haybands wound about his ankles to keep out the snow, a leather strap round his waist outside the smock-frock, and looking altogether an epitome of the world's health and vigour. Four lambs hung in various embarrassing attitudes over his shoulders, and the dog George, whom Gabriel had contrived to fetch from Norcombe, stalked solemnly behind.
`Well, Shepherd Oak, and how's lambing this year, if I mid say it?' inquired Joseph Poorgrass.
`Terrible trying,' mid Oak. `I've been wet through twice a-day, either in snow or rain, this last fortnight. Cainy and I haven't tined our eyes tonight.'
`A good few twins, too, I hear?'
`Too many by half. Yes; 'tis a very queer lambing this year. `We shan't have done by Lady Day.'
`And last year 'twer all over by Sexajessamine Sunday,' Joseph remarked.
`Bring on the rest, Cain,' said Gabriel, `and then run back to the ewes.
I'll follow you soon.'
Cainy Ball - a cheery-faced young lad, with a small circular orifice by way of mouth, advanced and deposited two others, and retired as he was bidden. Oak lowered the lambs from their unnatural elevation, wrapped them in hay, and placed them round the fire.
`We've no lambing-hut here, as I used to have at Norcombe,' said Gabriel, `and 'tis such a plague to bring the weakly ones to a house. If 'twasn't for your place here, malter, I don't know what I should do, this keen weather.
And how is it with you to-day, malter?'
`Oh, neither sick nor sorry, shepherd; but no younger. `Ay - I understand.'
`Sit down, Shepherd Oak,' continued the ancient man of malt. `And how was the old place at Norcombe, when ye went for your dog? I should like to see the old familiar spot; but faith, I shouldn't know a soul there now.'
`I suppose you wouldn't. 'Tis altered very much.'
`Is it true that Dicky Hill's wooden cider-house is pulled down?'
`O yes - years ago' and Dicky's cottage just above it.'
"Well, to be sure!'
`Yes; and Tompkins's old apple-tree is rooted that used to bear two hogsheads of cider, and no help from other trees.'
`Rooted? - you don't say it! Ah! stirring times we live in - stirring times.'
`And you can mind the old well that used to be in the middle of the place? That's turned into a solid iron pump with a large stone trough, and all complete.'
`Dear, dear - how the face of nations alter, and what we live to see nowadays! Yes - and 'tis the same here. They've been talking but now of the mis'ess's strange doings.'
`What have you been saying about her?' inquired Oak, sharply turning to the rest, and getting very warm.
`These middle-aged men have been pulling her over the coals for pride and vanity,' said Mark Clark; `but I say, let her have rope enough. Bless her pretty face - shouldn't I like to do so - upon her cherry lips!' The gallant Mark Clark here made a peculiar and well-known sound with his own.
`Mark,' said Gabriel sternly, `now you mind this: none of that dalliance-talk - that smack-and-coddle style of yours - about Miss Everdene. I don't allow it. Do you hear?'
`With all my heart, as I've got no chance,' replied Mr Clark cordially.
`I suppose you've been speaking against her?' said Oak, turning to Joseph Poorgrass with a very grim look.
`No, no - not a word I--'tis a real joyful thing that she's no worse, that's what I say,' said Joseph, trembling and blushing with terror. `Matthew just said - '
`Matthew Moon, what have you been saying?' asked Oak.
`I? Why ye know I wouldn't harm a worm - no, not one underground worm?' said Matthew Moon, looking very uneasy.
`Well, somebody has - and look here, neighbours.' Gabriel, though one of the quietest and most gentle men on earth, rose to the occasion, with martial promptness and vigour. `That's my fist.' Here he placed his fist, rather smaller in size than a common loaf, in the mathematical centre of the maltster's little table, and with it gave a bump or two thereon, as if to ensure that their eyes all thoroughly took in the idea of fistiness before he went further. `Now - the first man in the parish that I hear prophesying bad of our mistress, why' (here the fist was raised and let fall, as Thor might have done with his hammer in assaying it) - `he'll smell and taste that - or I'm a Dutchman.'
All earnestly expressed by their features that their minds did not wander to Holland for a moment on account of this statement, but were deploring the difference which gave rise to the figure; and Mark Clark cried `Hear, hear; just what I should ha' said.' The dog George looked up at the same time after the shepherd's menace, and, though he understood English but imperfectly, began to growl.
`Now, don't ye take on so' shepherd, and sit down!' said Henery, with a deprecating peacefulness equal to anything of the kind in Christianity.
`We hear that ye be a extraordinary good and clever man, shepherd,' said Joseph Poorgrass with considerable anxiety from behind the maltster's bedstead, whither he had retired for safety. `'Tis a great thing to be clever, I'm sure,' he added, making movements associated with states of mind rather than body; `we wish we were, don't we, neighbours?'
`Ay, that we do, sure,' said Matthew Moon, with a small anxious laugh towards Oak, to show how very friendly disposed he was likewise.
`Who's been telling you I'm clever?' said Oak.
`'Tis blowed about from pillar to post quite common, said Matthew. `We hear that ye can tell the time as well by the stars as we can by the sun and moon, shepherd.'
`Yes, I can do a little that way,' said Gabriel, as a man of medium sentiments on the subject.
`And that ye can make sundials, and prent folks' names upon their waggons almost like copper-plate, with beautiful flourishes, and great long tails.
A excellent fine thing for ye to be such a clever man, shepherd. Joseph Poorgrass used to prent to Farmer James Everdene's waggons before you came, and `a could never mind which way to turn the J's and E's - could ye, Joseph?'
