“Only three from Ed’ard because he’ve a-spoke me fair,” murmured Joseph to himself; “an’ I’ll not take ’em altogether, neither. I wouldn’t lave the pore chap wi’ a great gap in the rank.” Joseph dropped something carefully into the sack which he carried over his arm, and then he drew together the disturbed clods and patted them down. Then waddling along with his legs across the drill he cautiously removed another “set,” and then another. “That’ll do for Ed’ard,” he muttered. “’Tis for feedin’ the pore, so the Lard’ll make it up to en. Now, Jan, I’ll take a good few from ’ee, because ye be a danged ’ard-’arted chap. An’ I don’t care where I d’ take ’em, nor if it do make gaps—nay, that I don’t. Ye’ve a-sowed, an’ ye’ve a-watered, so to speak, Jan, but I d’ ’low that it’ll sarve ’ee right if the Lard don’t give ’ee no increase.” He unearthed the “sets,” taking every precaution, however, to make the ground look undisturbed. He went the rounds, in fact, till his sack was nearly full, and then beat a retreat, carrying home his booty unobserved. It chanced that Jim Cross, waking with the dawn, fancied he heard the sound of a spade in the next garden. On his way to work, a little later on, he observed that a goodly portion of Joseph’s patch of ground was indeed freshly dug up. Joseph was standing by the gate as usual, and nodded affably as his neighbour passed. “I see ye’ve a-bin diggin’,” remarked Jim, pausing with a surprised expression. “Looks as if ye was a-gettin’ the ground ready for taters.” “Well, an’ maybe I am a-gettin’ the ground ready for taters,” returned Joseph warmly. “I puts my trust where trust be due. My fellow-creatur’s have a-turned their backs on me, so I looks to the Lard. Aye,” repeated Joseph, turning up his eyes piously, “I looks to the Lard for ’elp, Jim Cross. The Lard’ll purvide.” Jim was much impressed. “I’ve put me trust in Providence,” pursued Joseph, peering at him cautiously out of the corner of his eye; “and to show as I’ve a-put my trust in Providence, I’m a-gettin’ ready my bit o’ ground. When the Lard sends me them taters, neighbour, he’ll find I ready.” Jim looked hard at him, and Joseph folded his arms and looked back steadily and mildly. “I don’t bear ’ee no grudge, Jim,” he went on. “I don’t bear nobody no grudge, but I do put my trust in the Lard.” Jim went on his way, scratching his head from time to time, and casting back sundry furtive glances at his neighbour, who suddenly appeared to him in a new and impressive light.