"No, I wean't. He'll speak to me when it's all raight, and Daisy and him has made it up. I'll troost him, that I will; for though he's a bit wild, he's a gentleman at heart, like his father before him. Why of course I'll troost him. He's a bit shamefaced about it o' course; but he'll speak, all in good time. Both of 'em will, and think they're going to surprise me. Ha--ha--ha! I've gotten 'em though. Lord, what fools young people is--blind as bats--blind as bats. Here's Daisy." "It's so nice to see you sitting here, father," said the girl, coming behind him, and resting her chin on his bald crown, while her plump arms went round his neck. "Is it, my gal? That's raight. Why, Daisy lass, what soft little arms thine are. Give us a kiss." Daisy leaned down and kissed him, and then stopped with her arms resting on his shoulders, keeping her face from confronting him; and so they remained for a few minutes, when a smile twinkled about the corners of the foreman's lips and eyes as he said-- "Daisy, my gal, I've been watching the bees a bit." "Yes, father," she said, smiling, though it was plain to see that the smile was forced. "Yes, father, you always like to watch the bees." "I do, my bairn, I do. They're just like so many workmen in a factory; but they don't strike, my gal, they don't strike." "But they swarm, father," said Daisy, making an effort to keep up the conversation. "Yes," chuckled Joe, taking hold of the hand that rested on his left shoulder. "Yes, my bairn, I was just coming to that. They swarm, don't they?" "Yes, father." "And do you know why they swarm, Daisy?" "Yes, father; because the hive is not big enough for them." "Yes, yes," chuckled Joe, patting the hand, and holding it to his rough cheek. "You're raight, but it's something more, Daisy: it's the young ones going away from home and setting up for theirselves--all the young ones 'most do that some day." The tears rose to Daisy's eyes, and she tried to withdraw her hand, for Joe had touched on a tenderer point than he imagined; but he held it tightly and gave it a kiss. "There, there, my pet," he said, tenderly, "I won't tease you. I knew it would come some day all right enough, and I don't mind. I only want my little lass to be happy." "Oh, father--father--father," sobbed Daisy, letting her face droop till it rested on his head, while her tears fell fast. "Come, come, come, little woman," he said, laughing; "thou mustn't cry. Why, it's all raight." There was a huskiness in his voice though, as he spoke, and he had to fight hard to make the dew disappear from his eyes. "Here, I say, Daisy, my lass, that wean't do no good: you may rain watter for ever on my owd bald head, and the hair won't come again. There--tut--tut--tut--you'll have moother here directly, and she'll be asking what's wrong." Daisy made a strong effort over self, and succeeded at last in drying her eyes. "Then, you are not cross with me, father?" faltered Daisy.