“You the credit,” said Mrs. Armstrong; “you’ll tell me next you’ve kirned it and washed it and printed it yoursel’.”
“I’ve milk’t it,” said Simon. “There’s a great art in milking. If you do it in wan way the cream’s spoilt; but if ye do ’t in my way you see what’s the consequence. Just look at my butter--it’s like lumps of gowd.”
“A wee too yallow for my fancy,” said the buyer. “That’s beet, and it gies a taste. I’m no saying it’s your fault. There’s nae pasture on the fells to keep the baists without feeding.”
“_My_ baists,” said Simon, “want for naething; there’s no such sweet pasture on a’ the fells as ower by the Reedbush yonder; it’s that juicy and tasty. I think whiles it would be a good thing for me if I could eat it mysel’.”
“Well, Simon, you’re humble-minded,” said the mistress. “What will you have? If ye eat cow’s meat ye will want something to warm your stamack after ’t. Is it true they tell me that Miss Joan’s gotten a lad at long and last?”
“Miss Joan,” said the old retainer; “and wha might it be that evened Miss Joan to lads or any nonsense o’ t’ sort?”
“Eh, what’s the matter with her that she’s so different from other folk? A lad’s natural to a lass; and though she ca’s herself a lady she’s just a lass like the rest. Lady here and lady there; she’s just a stout lass like any farmer’s daughter aboot. I’m no speaking a word again the family.”
“Far better no; there’s Master Harry is a good customer--no that he takes much when he’s here; but he’s for ever aboot the house.”
“Ay, so?” said old Simon; “I thought he wasna the fine lad he used to be. So he’s for ever aboot this house?”
“Ye’re an auld ill-tongued--why shouldn’t he be aboot this house? Is there any harm in this house? The curate himself, when he has a friend with him, he’ll come to me for his dinner. The ‘Red Lion’s’ as good a house as is atween this and Carlisle. Show you me another that is mair exact in a’ the regulations, and gies less trouble. There no been so much as a fine paid in the ‘Red Lion,’ no since my fayther’s time that had it afore us. We’re kent through aw the countryside.”
“I’m saying nae harm o’ t’ ‘Red Lion.’ Ye snap a man oop that short; but a gentleman he’s best at home. I say to your face, mistress, as I wouldn’t say worst behind your back. And if he’s hanging aboot a tap day and night--”