'Have ye ever tried anything to cure yer noise, Maister Worm?'
inquired Martin Cannister.
'Oh ay; bless ye, I've tried everything. Ay, Providence is a
merciful man, and I have hoped He'd have found it out by this
time, living so many years in a parson's family, too, as I have,
but 'a don't seem to relieve me. Ay, I be a poor wambling man,
and life's a mint o' trouble!'
'True, mournful true, William Worm. 'Tis so. The world wants
looking to, or 'tis all sixes and sevens wi' us.'
'Take your things off, Mrs. Worm,' said Mrs. Smith. 'We be rather
in a muddle, to tell the truth, for my son is just dropped in from
Indy a day sooner than we expected, and the pig-killer is coming
presently to cut up.'
Mrs. Barbara Worm, not wishing to take any mean advantage of
persons in a muddle by observing them, removed her bonnet and
mantle with eyes fixed upon the flowers in the plot outside the
door.
'What beautiful tiger-lilies!' said Mrs. Worm.
'Yes, they be very well, but such a trouble to me on account of
the children that come here. They will go eating the berries on
the stem, and call 'em currants. Taste wi' junivals is quite
fancy, really.'
'And your snapdragons look as fierce as ever.'
'Well, really,' answered Mrs. Smith, entering didactically into
the subject, 'they are more like Christians than flowers. But
they make up well enough wi' the rest, and don't require much
tending.
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