wanting in me," said Joseph, diminishing himself.
"Nonsense; wou'st never be so ungrateful, Joseph—never!" said Coggan, expressing hurt feelings by an inflection of voice. "And mistress is looking hard at ye, as much as to say, Sing at once, Joseph Poorgrass.'"
"Faith, so she is; well, I must suffer it!... How do I bear her gaze? Do I blush prodigally? Just eye my features, and see if the tell-tale blood overpowers me much, neighbours."
"No, yer blushes be quite reasonable," said Coggan.
"A very reasonable depth indeed," testified Oak.
"I always tries to keep my colours from rising when a beauty's eyes get fixed on me," said Joseph, diffidently; "but if so be 'tis willed they do, they must."
"Now, Joseph, your song, please," said Bathsheba, from the window.
"Well, really, ma'am," he replied, in a yielding tone, "I don't know what to say. It would be a poor plain ballet of my own composure."
"Hear, hear!" said the supper-party.
Poorgrass, thus assured, trilled forth a flickering yet commendable piece of sentiment, the tune of which consisted of the key-note and another,
