bub," said Tom Brangwen, his eyes full of water with laughing. "It knocked all th' sense out of me as you'd crack an egg. But I tell you, when I come to, I played Old Johnny Roger with St. George, I did that."
He was shaking with laughter. Another knock came at the door. There was a hush.
"It's th' cab," said somebody from the door.
"Walk in," shouted Tom Brangwen, and a red-faced grinning man entered.
"Now you two, get yourselves ready an' off to blanket fair," shouted Tom Brangwen. "Strike a daisy, but if you're not off like a blink o' lightnin', you shanna go, you s'll sleep separate."
Anna rose silently and went to change her dress. Will Brangwen would have gone out, but Tilly came with his hat and coat. The youth was helped on.
"Well, here's luck, my boy," shouted his father.
"When th' fat's in th' fire, let it frizzle," admonished his uncle Frank.
"Fair and softly does it, fair an' softly does it," cried his aunt, Frank's wife, contrary.
"You don't want to fall over yourself," said his uncle by marriage. "You're not a bull at a gate."
"Let a man have his own road," said Tom Brangwen testily. "Don't be so free of your advice—it's his wedding this time, not yours."
"'E won't want many sign-posts," said his father. "There's some roads a man has to be led, an' there's some roads a boss-eyed man can only follow wi' one eye shut. But this road can't be lost by a blind man nor a boss-eyed man nor a cripple—and he's neither, thank God."
"Don't you be so sure o' your walkin' powers," cried Frank's wife. "There's many a man gets no further than half-way, nor can't to save his life, let him live for ever."
"Why, how do you know?" said Alfred.
"It's plain enough in th' looks o' some," retorted Lizzie, his sister-in-law.
The youth stood with a faint, half-hearing smile on his face. He was tense and abstracted. These things, or anything, scarcely touched him.
Anna came down, in her day dress, very elusive. She kissed everybody, men and women, Will Brangwen shook
