"Law! Betty," said Dorothy that night, as she uncoiled the tresses of her gleaming locks. "I declare your Tom Pinder is as mad as a hatter; and faith, I think it's catching." "Smittling, yo' meean, miss. Well, some ailments be if yo' bide _very_ near them as has 'em." And Ben and Tom sat long that night talking over their plans for the near future. Ben conceded there was something in what Miss Dorothy had said. "By gow, who'd ha' thowt yon' wench had it in her, to pounce reet daan on th' weak spot, what yo' may ca' th' flaw o'th system, all in a jeffy like. But she's a head piece in a hundred. It'll be her uncle 'oo favvers, for her father had more heart nor yead." "An' what for should'nt Dorothy see what yo' two men blinked yo'r een at?" asked Hannah indignantly, "Haven't aw towd yo' scores o' times 'at a woman 'll lawp ovver a wall whilst a man's gooin' raand gropin' for th' gate. Aw'm fain someb'dy can ding sense into oather on yo'--it doesn't matter which, for what one on yo' says t'other 'll swear to. If 'oo's persuaded Tom theer 'at ther's sich a thing as lookin' after other folks consarns till yo'r own's gone to rack an' ruin, it's more nor e'er aw could do bi thee, Ben. Happen aw'd ha' had more chance if aw'd tried afore we were wed i'stead o' after, but ther's no tellin'. Some folk are born so; an' ther ne'er wer' a fooil brought into th' world but there wer' a bigger born to match him. But aw see hah it is, we'st burn more can'les talkin' abaat th' new venture, as yo ca' it, nor th' takkin's 'll run to i' a gooid season. Get thee to bed, Tom, an' dunnot yo' forget yo're Jabez Tinker's 'prentice lad yet, whativver yo' may be some day when me an' Ben's both under th' sod." The end of Tom's apprenticeship drew near. Stories of his project had already been whispered about the village, and some of the quidnuncs of the barber's shop, which was the central Exchange of local news tapped their foreheads significantly. "Talk abaat a slate off," the slubber at Wilberlee had been heard to say, "yon' Ben Garside's got a whole roof off, and that d--d young bastard fro' Saddleworth's worse nor Ben." But in time the real nature of the new enterprise was bruited abroad and was much discussed. The novel theme was felt to be a perfect godsend in a community which, like others of its size, becomes more agitated over a runaway horse in its main street than over a European convulsion. The landlord of the Croppers' Arms began to feel quite a glow of gratitude towards the sober, drink-shunning Pinder, so many pints of ale did his nightly customers feel necessary for the ample criticism of Tom's scheme.