Into Monks Barton the farmer presently clattered, threw himself off his horse, tramped indoors, and shouted for his father-in-law in tones that made the oak beams ring. Then the miller, with Mr. Blee behind him, hastened to hear what Will had come to tell. "All right, all right with Phoebe?" were Mr. Lyddon's first words, and he was white and shaking as he put the question. "Right as ninepence, faither--gran'faither, I should say. A butivul li'l man she've got--out o' the common fine, Parsons says, as ought to knaw--fat as a slug wi' 'mazin' dark curls on his wee head, though my mother says 'tis awnly a sort o' catch-crop, an' not the lasting hair as'll come arter." "A bwoy! Glory be!" said Mr. Blee. "If theer's awnly a bit o' the gracious gudeness of his gran'faither in un, 'twill prove a prosperous infant." "Thank God for a happy end to all my prayers," said Mr. Lyddon. "Billy, get Will something to eat an' drink. I guess he's hungry an' starved." "Caan't eat, Miller; but I'll have a drop of the best, if it's all the same to you. Us must drink their healths, both of 'em. As for me 'tis a gert thing to be the faither of a cheel as'll graw into a man some day, an' may even be a historical character, awnly give un time." "So 'tis a gert thing. Sit down; doan't tramp about. I lay you've been on your feet enough these late hours." Will obeyed, but proceeded with his theme, and though his feet were still his hands were not. "Us be faced wi' the upbringing an' edication of un. I mean him to be brought up to a power o' knowledge, for theer's nothin' like it. Doan't you think I be gwaine to shirk doin' the right thing by un', Miller, 'cause it aint so. If 'twas my last fi'-pun' note was called up for larnin' him, he'd have it." "Theer's no gert hurry yet," declared Billy. "Awnly you'm right to look in the future and weigh the debt every man owes to the cheel he gets. He'll never cost you less thought or halfpence than he do to-day, an', wi'out croakin' at such a gay time, I will say he'll graw into a greater care an' trouble, every breath he draws." "Not him! Not the way I'm gwaine to bring un up. Stern an' strict an' no nonsense, I promise 'e" "That's right. Tame un from the breast. I'd like for my paart to think as the very sapling be grawin' now as'll give his li'l behind its fust lesson in the ways o' duty," declared Mr. Blee. "Theer 's certain things you must be flint-hard about, an' fust comes lying. Doan't let un lie; flog it out of un; an' mind, 'tis better for your arm to ache than for his soul to burn." "You leave me to do right by un. You caan't teach me, Billy, not bein' a parent; though I allow what you say is true enough." "An' set un to work early; get un into ways o' work so soon as he's able to wear corduroys. An' doan't never let un be cruel to beastes; an' doan't let un--"