"I believe thou hast told me t' truth, Steve; but oh, dear me, what a fool thou hes been!"
"Thou thinks so, master, I don't doubt God gave thee t' art o' making money, and me t' art o' playing on t' fiddle, and understanding what t' birds are singing about; and I can tell thee, master, they think varry little o' men and women, and t' way in general of getting on varry friendly terms wi' all nature that isn't human nature. There's some kind o' work I could do, but it isn't weaving; however, when I get out o' this, nobody will give me weaving to do."
"Thou art wrong there. I will give the weaving to do. I'll niver take thy loom from thee, and I hope thou wilt lay this trouble to heart and be a better man for it when ta gets back to thy work, if ta ever does get back. Hes ta heard thou hes another daughter, and that Joyce isn't doing as well as might be?"
"I heard that this morning. Poor Joyce! And little lass, too! It's none of her fault she's got me for a daddy. Master! master! look a bit after them for me, will ta? For their sakes I'll buckle down to work when I get out, and
