Page:My people stories of the peasantry of West Wales.djvu/248

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MY PEOPLE


play old pranks? Wench fach, others have been into Catrin. If I die, this is true. Do you believe me now?”

Esther plagued him, saying:

“Bring me small fairings home, Sam bach. Did I not give you a knife when I went to the Fair of the Month of April?”

Sam took out his knife, and sharpened the blade on the leather of his clog.

“Grateful was I for the nice knife,” he said. “Did I not stick Old Shemmi’s pig with it, Esther fach?”

“Well—well, then?”

“Look you, there’s old murmuring that you were taken in mischief with the Schoolin’ in Abram’s hen loft,” said Sam.

Esther rose to her feet and looked upon him. This is the manner of man she saw: a short, bent-shouldered, stunted youth; his face had never been shaved and was covered with tawny hair, and his eyes were sluggish.

Esther laughed.

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