'I make what laws suit me,' said Abel. 'And what goes agen me--gets drownded.' 'But it inna all for you!' cried Hazel. 'Eh?' 'The world wunna made in seven days only for Abel Woodus,' said Hazel daringly. 'You've come back very peart from Silverton,' said Abel reflectively-- 'very peart, you 'ave. How many young fellers told you your 'air was abron this time? That fool Albert said so last time, and you were neither to hold nor to bind. Abron! Carrots!' But it was not, as he thought, this climax that silenced Hazel. It was the lucky hit about the young fellows and the reminiscence called up by the word 'abron.' He continued his advantage, mollified by victory. 'Tell you what it is, 'Azel; it's time you was married. You're too uppish.' 'I shall ne'er get married.' 'Words! words! You'll take the first as comes--if there's ever such a fool.' Hazel wished she could tell him that one had asked her, and that no labouring man. But discretion triumphed. 'Maybe,' she said tossing her head, 'I _will_ marry, to get away from the Callow.' 'Well, well, things couldna be dirtier; maybe they'll be cleaner when you'm gone. Look's the floor!' Hazel fell into a rage. He was always saying things about the floor. She hated the floor. 'I swear I'll wed the first as comes!' she cried--'the very first!' 'And last,' put in Abel. 'What'll you swear by?' 'By God's Little Mountain.' 'Well,' said Abel contentedly, 'now you've sworn _that_ oath, you're bound to keep it, and so now I know that if ever an 'usband _does_ come forrard you canna play the fool.' Hazel was too wrathful for consideration. 'You look right tidy in that gownd,' Abel said. 'I 'spose you'll be wearing it to the meeting up at the Mountain?' 'What meeting?' 'Didna I tell you I'd promised you for it--to sing? They'm after me to take the music and play.' Hazel forgot everything in delight. 'Be we going for certain sure?' she asked. 'Ah! Next Monday three weeks.' 'We mun practise.' 'They say that minister's a great one for the music. One of them sort as is that musical he canna play. There'll be a tea.' 'Eh!' said Hazel, 'it'll be grand to be in a gentleman's house agen!' 'When've you bin in a gentleman's house?' Hazel was taken aback. 'Yesterday!' she flashed. 'If Albert inna a gent I dunno who is, for he's got a watch-chain brass-mockin'-gold all across his wescoat.' Abel roared. Then he fell to in earnest on the coffin, whistling like a blackbird. Hazel sat down and watched him, resting her cheek on her hand. The cold snowlight struck on her face wanly. 'Dunna you ever think, making coffins for poor souls to rest in as inna tired, as there's a tree growing somewhere for yours?' she asked. 'Laws! What's took you? Measles? What for should I think of me coffin? That's about the only thing as I'll ne'er be bound to pay for.' He laughed. 'What ails you?' 'Nought. Only last night it came o'er me as I'll die as well as others.'