"We ain't doin' nothin', Josey!" said Buggins, almost timidly. "Nor we ain't sayin' nothin'," added Bainton. "We be as harmless as doves," put in Adam Frost with a sly chuckle; "and we ain't no match for sarpints!" "Ain't you looking well, Mr. Letherbarrow!" ejaculated the smartly dressed barmaid; "Just wonderful for your time of life!" "My time o' life?" And Josey Letherbarrow surveyed the young woman with an inimitable expression of disdain; "Well, it's a time o' life YOU'LL never reach, sane or sound, my gel, take my word for't! Fine feathers makes fine birds, but the life is more'n the meat and the body more'n raiment. And as for 'armless as doves and no match for sarpints, ye may be all that and more, which is no sort of argyment and when I sez 'what mischief are ye all up to' I sez it, and expecks a harnser, and a harnser I'll 'ave, or I'll reckon to know the reason why!" The men and women glanced at each other. It was unnecessary, and it would certainly be inhuman, to irritate old Josey Letherbarrow, considering Ms great age and various infirmities. "We was jest a-sayin' a word or two about the Five Sisters--" began Adam Frost. "Ay! ay!" said Josey; "That ye may do and no 'arm come of it; I knows 'em well! Five of the finest beech-trees in all England! Ay! ay! th' owld Squire was main proud of 'em---" "They be comin' down," said Buggins; "Oliver Leach's chalk mark's on 'em for Wednesday marnin'." "Comin' down!" echoed Josey--"Comin' down? Gar'n with ye all for a parcel o' silly idgits wi' neither rhyme nor reason nor backbone! Comin' down! Why ye might as well tell me the Manor House was bein' turned into a cow-shed! Comin' down! Gar'n!" "It's true, Josey," said Adam Frost, beginning to make his way towards the gate of the churchyard, for he had just spied one of his numerous 'olive-branches,' frantically beckoning him home to dinner, and he knew by stern experience what it meant if Mrs. Frost and the family were kept waiting for the Sunday's meal. "It's true, and you'll find it so. And whether it'll be any good speakin' to the new lady who's comin' home on Tuesday, or whether the Five Sisters won't be all corpses afore she comes, there's no knowin'. The Lord He gave the trees, but whether the Lord He gave Oliver Leach to take 'em away again after a matter of three or four hundred year is mighty doubtful!" Old Josey looked stupefied. "The Five Sisters comin' down!" he repeated dully; "May you never live to do my buryin', Adam Frost, if it's true!--and that's the worst wish I can give ye!" But Adam Frost here obeyed the call of his domestic belongings, and hurried away without response.