_Anne._ "Yes! as Mary James says, I'm always at the top o' the tree, and so I ought to be, for the Lord has been very good to me. You would not have conceited as He would listen to the prayers of a poor hignorant woman like me, but I've pruven as He did; for many a time as my husband has rampaged out of the house door like a lion, I've felled on my knees, and he's come back like a lamb. I never used to tell him what it was as had peacified him, because I knew that 'ud cause him to break out worse till ever; and now when he's a bit for wrangling, I only just say, 'Daniel, we wasn't paired to tear up one another's minds, but to live comfortable.' I should like you to see my youngest girl; she's not out o' the way handsome, for you know, ma'am, I'm hard-featured, and Daniel is long-featured (though he looks pretty well when he's tidied up a bit), but she has the loveliest tongue for a child of two and a half as ever anybody heard. Whatever we say, long or short, she has it in a minute, and specially if there's a bad word said she's sure not to miss it; and then, if I hoffer to beat her, her'll cry out, 'If mother beats Hemma, Hemma'il tell daddy, and then daddy'll beat mother': really, I say such an admyrable little creatur is more than nateral. I shall be taking her with me to chapel by-and-bye; we attends the Primities." _Miss A._ "Are those the Ranters?" _Anne._ "Oh! no, ma'am, the Ranters jump, and the Primities only shouts. I don't hold with jumping myself, though to be sure wasn't it St. Paul--oh no, it was King David--as danced before the ark? The shouting is a realality, depend upon it, Miss A., for you know when the facts of the Lord works into one's inside one cannot help but shout." The next cottage is a stonemason's. The stonemason is ill and his wife receives the visitor: