Reddin had the faults of his class, but turning an old servant adrift was not one of them. Vessons traded on this, and invariably said and did exactly what he liked. Chapter 7 When Hazel got in, her father had finished his breakfast and was busy at work. 'Brought the wreath-frames?' he asked, without looking up. 'Ah.' 'He's jead at last. At the turn of the night. They came after the coffin but now. I'll be able to get them there new section crates I wanted. He's doing more for me, wanting a coffin, and him stiff and cold, than what he did in the heat of life.' 'Many folks be like that,' said Hazel out of her new wisdom. Neither of them reflected that Abel had always been like that towards Hazel, that she was becoming more like it to him every year. Abel made no remark at all about Hazel's adventures, and she preserved a discreet silence. 'That little vixen's took a chicken,' said Abel, after a time; 'that's the second.' 'She only does it when I'm away, being clemmed,' said Hazel pleadingly. 'Well, if she does it again,' Abel announced, 'it's the water and a stone round her neck. So now you know.' 'You durstn't.' 'We'll see if I durst.' Hazel fled in tears to the unrepentant and dignified Foxy. Some of us find it hard enough to be dignified when we have done right; but Foxy could be dignified when she had done wrong, and the more wrong, the more dignity. She was very bland, and there was a look of deep content--digestive content, a state bordering on the mystic's trance--in her affectionate topaz eyes. It had been a tender and nourishing chicken; the hours she had spent in gnawing through her rope had been well repaid. 'Oh! you darlin' wicked little thing!' wailed Hazel. 'You munna do it, Foxy, or he'll drown you dead. What for did you do it, Foxy, my dear?' Foxy's eyes became more eloquent and more liquid. 'You gallus little blessed!' said Hazel again. 'Eh! I wish you and me could live all alone by our lonesome where there was no men and women.' Foxy shut her eyes and yawned, evidently feeling doubtful if such a halcyon place existed in the world. Hazel sat on her heels and thought. It was flight or Foxy. She knew that if she did not take Foxy away, her renewed naughtiness was as certain as sunset. 'You was made bad,' she said sadly but sympathetically. 'Leastways, you wasn't made like watch-dogs and house-cats and cows. You was made a fox, and you be a fox, and its queer-like to me, Foxy, as folk canna see that. They expect you to be what you wanna made to be. You'm made to be a fox; and when you'm busy being a fox they say you'm a sinner!' Having wrestled with philosophy until Foxy yawned again, Hazel went in to try her proposition on Abel. But Abel met it as the world in general usually meets a new truth. 'She took the chick,' he said. 'Now, would a tarrier do that--a well-trained tarrier? I says 'e would _not_' 'But it inna fair to make the same law for foxes and terriers.'