"I listen to no ill talk about my brother, Jane." "Then you'd better walk wi' some one else, Susan Yellam. You sees God A'mighty's hand i' this; I don't." She stamped along home in a silence Mrs. Yellam was too wise to break. Jane was a Christian and a churchgoer. But chronic dyspepsia seemed to have affected her conscience and principles. She had predicted aright. At the _Sir John Barleycorn_ Uncle was drinking much ale paid for, indirectly, by the hero of the hour. The gaffers and married men, including George's married brothers, listened approvingly. Uncle "understudied" the Squire as he addressed his friends, thrusting his hands into his pockets and standing very upright. "'Twas a notable evening, neighbours, but not a thing fresh to me, you understand? Me and Squire went over his so heart-stirrin' remarks two days ago, and me and old Captain had talk together this very marning. Far be it from me to say as they used my own words egzactly; I bain't a scollard, although I can an' do hold me own wheresomedever I finds myself. And I tell 'ee, just as Squire did to-night, 'tis our duty to cry 'Forrard' and keep on a-hollerin' so long as breath be left in our dear bodies. We got to jine in the hunt, boys, and roll our big buck over in open. I means, some way, to be in at death, and 'twould be a grand privilege to slit his royal throat. I tell 'ee, one and all, that the eyes o' the world be on Nether-Applewhite." Uncle drank some ale, amidst much applause. An old gaffer piped up: "Neighbours and true friends, this be a wondersome time, but I makes bold to say that we country fellers bain't properly esteemed in Lunnon town. I minds me when I jined what they called a deppitation to that gert city. I'd no stomach to go along, seein' as I'd no better clothes than I stands up in to-day. But I was out-talked, sonnies, as has happened to me by my own wife, time and time agen. We marched very proper down such a noble street as I'd reckoned might be found in Kingdom Come and nowheres else. And marchin' along so proud and joyous as never was, a tremenjous, red-faced man, a-settin' top side of a 'bus, wi' the reins in his hand, sings out: 'Halt!' Well, neighbours, we comes to a full stop, a-lookin' up at he, and, dang me, if he don't ask a very ridic'lous and shameless question." The old man paused solemnly, looking about him. Some had heard the story before; one of the others said curiously: "Whatever did he say?" "He says this, sonnies, loud and clear: 'Tell me this,' he says, 'how do they keep the crows off the wheat when you fellers comes to town?' Neighbours, they was his words. And it struck me all of a heap as we wasn't, so to speak, properly esteemed in Lunnon town; and, more, 'tis hard to believe that what Habakkuk Mucklow here says is true. There be too much i' the world, neighbours all, for it to be gapin' at we." Uncle felt that he had overstrained a figure of speech. But he dealt faithfully with his aged interrupter.