them, and you niver heard such a mockery as t' birds made o' t' work. But they cawed a civil good-morning to me. They knew I hed sense enough to enjoy t' sunshine and all t' other good things thet could be hed without spending a penny for them."
"I am afraid you are a foolish fellow, Steve."
"Ay, I dare say. Most folks will tell you so."
"And if you have a wife and children I think you are really doing wrong."
"I about know I am doing wrong. But I can't bide t' heat of t' mill, it gives me a headache, and t' smell of t' wool and t' oil is fair sickening. Sunshine and t' woods are varry much healthier; and then, I may tell thee, t' wife hes her tantrums pretty often. Nature is a deal easier to live wi' than Joyce, poor lass! Human beings are trying, mostly, Mistress Aske."
It was after this conversation Eleanor first spoke to her father about Steve. Jonathan listened with some interest to her description of this lazy lover of nature.
"He's right enough, Eleanor," he answered; "there has been a mistake somewhere in his
