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MY PEOPLE
out any gumption! Now, then, Eben the son of Sarah the daughter of Silah?”
“Here, iss.”
“Eben, Mari’s child by Job of the Stallion?”
“Here, iss.”
“Eben the son of Hannah the widow of Will?”
“Here, iss.”
Mishtir Lloyd called by name each of the eighty-five scholars on his register; when he came to the end, he said:
“What for was your hand up just now, man, Eben the son of Hannah?”
“Did I not want to tell him, little Mishtir, that I am not coming to school any more then?” replied Eben.
“Dear me, dear me, now indeed you are not coming for why?”
“Mishtir bach, does he not know that I am going to the moor to mind the sheep of Shames?”
“Ho, and you say that?”
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