Heavily the blue barrel went round--thrice, four times, five times; the colour mounted into Amadis's cheeks, not so much from the labour as the unwonted stooping; his breath came harder; he had to desist, and go and sit down on the form beside Bill Nye. "I wish you would not do it," said Amaryllis. "You know you're not strong yet." She spoke as if she had been his mother or his nurse, somewhat masterfully and reproachfully. "I'm afraid I'm not," said poor Amadis. His chin fell and his face lengthened--his eyes grew larger--his temples pinched; disappointment wrung at his heart. Convalescence is like walking in sacks; a short waddle and a fall. "I can tell 'ee of a vine thing, measter," said Bill Nye, "as I knows on; you get a pint measure full of snails----" "There, do hold your tongue, it's enough to make anyone ill to think of," said Amaryllis, angrily, and Bill was silent as to the cod-liver oil virtues of snails. Amaryllis went to fetch a glass of milk for Amadis. A robin came into the court, and perching on the edge of a tub, fluttered his wings, cried "Check, check," "Anything for me this morning?" and so put his head on one side, languishing and persuasive. "My sister, as was in a decline, used to have snail-oil rubbed into her back," said Luce, the maid, who had been standing in the doorway with a duster. "A pretty state of things," cried Mrs. Hen, in a passion. "You standing there doing nothing, and it's butter-making morning, and everything behind, and you idling and talking,"--rushing out from the dairy, and following Luce, who retreated indoors. "Hur'll catch it," said Bill Nye. "Missis is ----" said Jearje, supplying the blank with a wink, and meaning in a temper this morning. "Missis," like all nervous people, was always in a fury about nothing when her mind was intent on an object; in this case, the butter. "Here's eleven o'clock," she cried, in the sitting-room, pointing to the clock, "and the beds ain't made." "I've made the beds," said stolid Luce. "And the fire isn't dusted up." "I've dusted up the fire." "And you're a lazy slut"--pushing Luce about the room. "I bean't a lazy slut." "You haven't touched the mantelpiece; give me the duster!"--snatching it from her. "He be done." "All you can do is to stand and talk with the men. There's no water taken up stairs." "That there be."