The bells were rung as though the church-towers were going to be pulled down, and there was not a farmer or a farmer's wife who did not come to the door of Folking to ask how the young mother and the baby were doing.
'This is as it should be, squoire,' said Ralph Holt, who was going about in his Sunday clothes, as though it was a day much too sacred for muck and work.

He had caught hold of Caldigate in the stable yard, and was now walking with him down towards the ferry.
'Yes;--she's doing very well, they tell me,' said the newly-made father.
'In course she'll do well.

Why not?
A healthy lass like she, if I may make so free?
There ain't nothing like having them strong and young, with no town-bred airs about 'em.

I never doubted as she wouldn't do well.

I can tell from their very walk what sort of mothers they'll be.' Mr.Holt had long been known as the most judicious breeder of stock in that neighbourhood.