"So th' oud gentleman's away on his travels, is he?" said he. "Little 'uns telled me so. Eh! but the're sharp 'uns they are; I a'most think they beat my own wenches for sharpness, though mappen it's wrong to say so, and one on 'em in her grave. There's summut in th' weather, I reckon, as sets folk a-wandering. My measter, him at th' shop yonder, is spinning about th' world somewhere."
"Is that the reason you're so soon at home to-night?" asked Margaret innocently.

'So th' oud gentleman's away on his travels, is he?' said he. 'Little 'uns telled me so. Eh! but they're sharp 'uns, they are. My measter is spinning about th' world somewhere.'
'Is that the reason you're so early home tonight?' asked Margaret innocently.
