“Hey, neighbours,” cried the miller at last, with a loud attempt to pull his friends together. “Hey lads, what's amiss? These be doleful dumps that have fallen on us. A plague on Jake and his quack preacher! Now, if I'm not better satisfied than ever with parson may I fail to know firsts from seconds by a sniff of the dust. Come, farmer, tell Hal what answer you gave to Squire's young lady when she asked you if you made the cows drink wine wouldn't they milk syllabub? He told me before you looked in, Hal! Droll, it was surely. You'd never think that the farmer had it in him.” “Nay, nay,” said the farmer with a smile that broke up his face into the semblance of a coloured diagram of the canals in Mars. “Nay, miller, 'twas on the spur o' the moment. I had no time to think o' some ready reply that a young miss might think suitable to her station in life coming from a humble yeoman that has no learning but of tillage.” “I'll swear you'll esteem it neat as a sheep's tongue,” said the miller. “Come, farmer, out with it, and don't force me to spoil it i' the telling.” “Oh, well----” began the farmer, pursing out his lips and assuming the expression of one who is forced into a position of enviable prominence. “Oh, well, 'twas o' Tuesday last--or was it Monday, miller?” “You told me Monday,” replied the miller. “Did I? Well, if I said Monday I sticks to it whatever may hap; for as ye know me, friends, I don't go back on my word, even though I be wrong, that being my way, so to speak, that came natural to me ever since poor father said to me----” But the revelation as to the terms of his father's discourse which had produced so lasting an impression upon him, was not to be made at that time; for before the slow farmer had spoken, the porch door was opened, and there appeared against the background of the spring green side of the little valley slope, the figure of a young girl, rather tall, wearing a cloak by the lined hood of which her pretty face was framed. “Hey,” cried the miller, “this be an improvement. After all we won't need your story, farmer.” “Your servant, Master Miller--gentlemen, I am your most obedient to command now as ever,” said the girl, dropping a curtsey first to the miller, then to his guests. “Oh, Master Hal, black but comely as usual, and rather more idle than usual. And Farmer Pendelly, too--fresh as a new-washed cherub on a tombstone. Master Pritchard, with his magic wand up his sleeve, I doubt not. I didn't know that you was entertaining a party, miller, or I--I----” “Don't tell us that you would ha' tarried, Nelly; that would be to pay a bad compliment to my company as well as to me,” said the miller. “I was about to say that I would have hurried, not tarried. Maybe I'll not tarry even now, in spite of the attractions you hold out, sir.”