"I was going to admit that his experience of the world is rather limited; but he is a great reader, and has nourished his intellect on the learning of wiser men than himself. His advice generally comes out of a good book, and is therefore pretty well to be relied upon." "As to advice," she answered. "'Tis taking it, not giving it that matters. If a man or woman agrees with you, and falls in with every word, and thanks you over and over again--then you may feel perfectly sure they won't follow a syllable and have only come to waste your time. 'Tis them that argue, and wrangle, and sulk, and ax your reasons, and go away in a temper with you--'tis them that be most likely to profit by what you've said." A voice cried from below stairs. "Can Valentine come up to see father?" "He can," answered Mr. Weekes; and a moment later old Huggins creaked upstairs, followed by Jarratt. "You'd better go, schoolmaster. You've had your turn," said Hephzibah. "Philip mustn't see too much company all at once." Adam, therefore, withdrew, and Mr. Huggins took his place. "I heard the joyful news as you was your own man again, and soon to come down house," said the patriarch; "therefore nothing would do but what I must walk up and have a look at you. Not changed a hair, thank God." "He's fatter," said Mrs. Weekes. "The idleness have put flesh on him--round as a tub he have grown. You'm inches deep in lard, ban't you, my old dear?" "I believe I am," answered Philip. "But I'll work it off again so soon as I get on my legs. It shows how little us be wanted, Val, that though we may be struck down, the world goes on just the same. Now I've often thought, in my vainglorious way, what would become of all my Indian game birds if anything happened to me. Yet they was never better, and be laying as free as Nature can make 'em, so missis tells me." "'Tis this here wonderful woman," said Huggins. "You'm one of the fortunates, you are. 'Be dashed if Hephzibah Weekes don't know how to be in two places to once!' I said not long since to Noah Pearn. And he answered 'twas the cleverest thing he'd ever heard me say." "Philip's going to be let out of bed to-morrow," said Mrs. Weekes. "And he'll come down house the day after." "The spring weather will soon set him up." "Spring be here without a doubt," she answered. "That dear angel boy of Sarah Jane's comed in along with his father yester-eve; and he fetched as fine a bunch of primrosen as you could wish to see. But the darling had picked 'em without stalks, as childer will, so they was flinged away so soon as his li'l back was turned." "A very promising start to the year, I do think," said Mr. Huggins. "A good deal of prosperity in the country, and very great promise of hay--so John Prout tells me." "What was the news of Mr. Woodrow?" "I named him. He've wintered pretty well--ban't worse nor better. Daniel Brendon be going down to him for a few days, and 'tis hoped he'll come home first week in June."