That was my brother's way, and my father's before him." "It seems a bit a pity, though," said Mr.Tulliver, "as the lad should take after the mother's side instead o' the little wench.

That's the worst on't wi' crossing o' breeds: you can never justly calkilate what'll come on't.

The little un takes after my side, now: she's twice as 'cute as Tom.

Too 'cute for a woman, I'm afraid," continued Mr.
Tulliver, turning his head dubiously first on one side and then on the other.

"It's no mischief much while she's a little un; but an over-'cute woman's no better nor a long-tailed sheep,--she'll fetch none the bigger price for that." "Yes, it _is_ a mischief while she's a little un, Mr.Tulliver, for it runs to naughtiness.