“You have a better time of it, Mrs. Whittle,” said he, “nor my poor little ’ooman at home. You do see your husband so often as you like; but there, I must bide away from home for weeks and months at a time. I mid almost say I haven’t got a home; and Mary, she mid say she haven’t got a husband.” “How’s that?” inquired Betty, pausing, with the now laughing child suspended in mid-air, to turn her astonished face upon him. “My place is nigh upon fifteen mile away from here. I go travellin’ the country round, cuttin’ the woods and makin’ hurdles; an’ ’tis too far to get back except for a little spell now and then. I didn’t think o’ wedlock when I took up the work, an’ now I d’ ’low I wouldn’t care to turn to any other. But ’tis hard on the ’ooman.” “She oughtn’t to let you do it!” cried the keeper’s wife firmly. “Ha’ done, Jim; ha’ done, thou naughty boy! I’ll throw thee over the trees in a minute!” The child had clutched at her golden locks, pulling one strand loose; she caught at the chubby hand, made believe to slap it, and then kissed the little pink palm half a dozen times. “Your wife ought to make you get your livin’ some other way,” she added seriously. “It couldn’t be done now,” said the woodman. “I have done nothin’ but fell trees an’ plesh hurdles since I was quite a little ’un. I couldn’t do naught else,” he added somewhat dreamily; “I fancy I couldn’t bide anywhere except in a wood.” “Well, ’tis a fine life,” said she, willing to say something civil. “Yes, pleasant enough,” he agreed. “If I could tole my missus about I’d never complain; but, there! it can’t be done.” He tossed the faggot on one side, and began to collect materials for another. Betty noticed a great rent in his fustian waistcoat, and, commenting upon the fact, volunteered to mend it. “’Tis awkward for ye having no one to sew for ye,” she added, as Dick gratefully divested himself of the garment in question. “’Tis that,” agreed Tuffin. “I do move about so often the folks where I lodge do never seem to take a bit of interest in I. My wife, she do fair cry at times when she do see the state my things be in. Come, I’ll hold the youngster for ye, Mum.” “Oh, he’ll be all right on the soft grass here!” “Nay, I’d like to hold ’en if ye’ll let me. I want to get my hand in, d’ye see. There’ll be a little un at our place very soon.” “I do call it unfeelin’ of ye to leave your wife alone at such a time,” remarked Betty reprovingly. “Her mother’s wi’ her,” returned Dick. “I’ll go home for a bit in a fortnight or so, but I must be back in October.” He chirruped to the child, swinging him high in the air, till Baby Jim crowed and laughed again. Soon Mrs. Whittle’s task was accomplished, and she handed back the waistcoat to its owner, receiving his profuse thanks in return. As she walked away through the chequered light and shade Dick looked after her.