It's very curious what different ideas of pleasure different people have." "He's a rare sort o' boy, the young master," soliloquised Lubin as Austin went pegging along towards the house.

"Game for no end of mischief when the fit takes him, for all he's only got one leg.

One'd think he was half daft to hear him talk sometimes, too.

Seems like as if it galled him a bit to rub along with the old auntie, and I shouldn't wonder if the old auntie herself felt about as snug as a bell-wether tied to a frisky colt.

However, I s'pose the A'mighty knows what He's about, and it's always the old cow's notion as she never was a calf herself." With which philosophical reflection Lubin slipped on his green corduroy jacket, shouldered his broom, and trudged cheerfully home to tea..