"Aye," continued Ben, "aw cannot tell whativver's come ovver th' lad. Aw say nowt agen his buryin' his nose i' books e'ery neet, an' hardly goin' to bed till aw'm thinkin o' gettin' up. That's improvin' his mind, that is, at least aw hope so--it's only to be hoped he won't addle it i'th process. But this chapel-goin's beyond me. Mind yo', aw nivver said so mich abaat his gooin' to th' church o' a mornin'. He wer' browt up so, and Mr. Black set a deal o' store on it, so it wer' like honourin' yo'r father an yo'r mother, in a fashion o' speikin'. But, dal me, chapel-goin's like turnin' his back on th' church altogether. What does _ta_ mak on it, Hannah?" "Nowt," said Hannah, and Ben knew from experience that the wife of his bosom thought more than she was minded to tell. "If it hadn't been Tom," continued Ben in a meditative and perhaps something of a tentative strain, "Tom 'at's as steady as a booat-hoss aw sud be enclined to speckilate ther' wer' a wench at th' bottom on it. What do'st think, Lucy, has he said owt to yo' abaat it?" "No, father. Tom has said nothing but that the new minister at Aenon 's a very good preacher. One o' th' new school, he says." "Aye, aye, aw'n yerd abaat him. 'A wind-bag,' some o'th owd hands ca' 'im. Bi all aw can mak' aat he's a trimmer 'at sets his sails to catch the wind o' approval fro' th' upper seats o' th' 'orthodox, orthodox Sons o' auld John Knox,' an' the gale o' applause fro' th' young 'uns 'at 'ud like to kick ovver th' traces. He's noather fish, nor flesh, nor fowl, nor gooid red herrin'--so folk sen, an' goes on refinin' an' refinin' and explainin' till Deacon Whiteley says he's refined and explained th' owd Trust Deed away, an' ther's lots o'th owder end dunnot know whether they're stood o' their heads or their heels. An' they dunnot hauf like th' Band o' Hope 'at he's started i' connection wi' th' Sunday Schooil, though aw'll say nowt agen that missen." "It 'ud be a gooid thing if they'd ha' a Band o' Hope for th' grown-up childer," said Hannah. "I fancy from what Tom said to me t'other neet--I mean night," began Lucy. "Neet's gooid enew," interrupted her mother in a sharper tone than Lucy often heard. "Though awm awmost forced to be dumb, when yo'r father's got owt to say, awm noather deaf nor blind, thank God; an' aw'n noticed lately 'at Tom's getten into a fine way o' speikin',--Miss Nancyfied aw ca' it,--an' yo'r followin' suit. There'll be no livin' wi' oather on yo' sooin if it goes on." "Well, what is it yo' wouldn't be capped at?" asked Ben, by way of diversion. "If Tom joined the Band of Hope," said Lucy quietly, and, one would have judged, sadly.