“E-es,” said Mrs Dewey, “we’ve heared. An’ we did hear the cause o’ your doin’ it, too.” “Oh, an’ did you?” said Sally. Mr Crumpler cleared his throat in an absent-minded kind of way, and looked abstractedly at the fire. Mrs Frost, after waiting a second or two to see if Mrs Dewey would take the initiative, shot a severe glance in his direction, and then addressed herself to his wife, who, with symptoms of gathering irritation, not unmixed with perturbation, was now laying the table. “E-es, Mrs Crumpler,” she said, in a loud, clear voice, “me and Mrs Dewey an’ Jenny Weatherby there, us felt it our dooty to step up an’ say a word or two to ye about it. ’Tis terr’ble bad example what you’ve a-been a-givin’ to-day, Mrs Crumpler.” “Bad example!” gasped Sally, clapping down the tumbler which she had been ostensibly polishing, and whisking round sharply. “Well, I don’t know what else you can call it,” put in Mrs Dewey indignantly. “I’m sure the men is hard enough to manage at the best o’ times, an’ when a ’ooman like you goes encouragin’ of ’em in their bad ways and wickedness, ’tis a shame and a disgrace, Mrs Crumpler.” “A public shame, so ’tis,” exclaimed Jenny. Sally turned quite pale. “Why, what have I done?” she cried. “Done!” echoed the deputation in chorus. “What have I done?” repeated Sally, with a stamp of the foot, and raising her voice so as to drown the outcry. “When my husband found hisself onfit to do his work this marnin’ I went out an’ did it for en, so as maister shouldn’t turn en away.” “Ho, yes,” said Mrs Dewey, folding her arms, “that was what ye done; we all knows that well enough. Ye was a-boastin’ an a-braggin’ of it loud enough, I’m sure, settin’ yourself up an tryin’ to make every man o’ the place discontented and upset.” “Me!” exclaimed Mrs Crumpler indignantly. “I’m sure I never opened my mouth to get a-boastin’ or anything o’ the kind.” “Oh, didn’t ye!” retorted Jenny. “I heared my father say as you went an offered maister to do two days’ work to make up for one your husband had a-lost through bein’ drinky.” “Well,” rejoined Sally, whose blood was now up, “that wasn’t boastin’.” “’Twas a-settin’ yourself up above the rest of us and a-puttin’ notions into the men’s heads what be bad enough as ’tis,” cried Mrs Dewey. “Why, they’ll all be expectin’ of us to do the same,” exclaimed Mrs Frost, “to be sure they will. The very next time Frost gets drunk he’ll up and ax me, as like as not, why I don’t do his work for en, same as Sally Crumpler.” At this point, Mr Crumpler, whose shoulders might have been observed to heave during the last few moments, suddenly pushed back his chair and burst into a roar of laughter. “Well done!” he cried. “Well done, Sally! I d’ ’low there b’ain’t a man in the place but what envies me.” Thereupon the deputation turned upon him as one woman. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” asked Mrs Dewey. “You did ought to want to go and hide your head,” exclaimed Jenny.