"You shouldn't ought to ask mother that," said Harry. "She 'äun't used to work. It's well enough fur you and me, we're strong chaps, and there's no reason we shouldn't pull to a bit. But mother, she'd never do wudout the girl--you see, there's the dairy and the fowls as well as the house." "We could help her out of doors." "Lard!--you want some work!" Reuben sprang to his feet. "Yes--I do! You're justabout right there. I'm starved fur work. I've never really worked in my life, and now I want to work till I drop. Look at my arm"--and he showed them his brown hairy arm, where the muscles swelled in lumps under the skin--"that's a workman's arm, and it's never worked yet--präaperly. You let me send off Blackman and Becky, and see how we manage wudout 'em. I'll do most of the work myself, I promise you. I couldn't have too much." "You're a queer lad, Reuben--and more masterful than your poor fäather wur." "Yes--I'm master here." He sat down, and looked round the table quite calmly. A vague uneasiness disturbed Mrs. Backfield and Harry. For some unfathomable reason they both felt a little afraid of Reuben. He finished his supper and went out of the kitchen. Harry and his mother sat for a moment or two in silence. "He always wur queer about Boarzell," said Mrs. Backfield at last; "you remember that time years ago when he got mixed up wud the riot? I said to his fäather then as I was sure Ben 'ud want to do something crazy wud the farm. But I never thought he'd so soon be mäaster," and a tear trickled over her smooth cheek. "I döan't see no harm in his buying a bit of Boarzell if it's going cheap--but it äun't worth mäaking all ourselves uncomfortable for it." "No. Howsumdever, we can't stand agäunst him--the pläace is his'n, and he can do wot he likes." "Hush--listen!" said Harry. The sound of voices came from the passage outside the kitchen. Reuben was talking to the girl. A word or two reached them. "Durn! if he äun't getting shut of her!" "I never said as I'd do her work." Harry sprang to his feet, but his mother laid her hand on his arm. "Döan't you go vrothering him, lad. It'll only set him agäunst you, and I döan't care, not really; there'll be unaccountable liddle work to do in the house now your poor fäather's gone, and Blackman wöan't be eating wud us. Besides, as he said, I'll find the days a bit slow wud naun to occupy me." "But it's sass of him to go sending off the girl wudout your leave." "He's mäaster here." "Ho! we shall see that." "Now you're not to go quarrelling wud him, Harry. I'd sooner have peace than anything whatsumdever. I äun't used to being set agäunst people. Besides, it wöan't be fur long." "No--you're justabout right there. I ought to be able to wed Naomi next April year, and then, mother--think of the dear liddle house we shall live in, you and she and I, all wud our own fields and garn, and no trouble, and Ben carrying through his own silly consarns here by himself."