And on a Sunday too! Oh, Martha, it doesn't seem right.' 'Oh, nothing's right that I do!' replied Martha pettishly; 'thee'rt afraid I'll get as good as thee, and then thee cannot crow over me.

But I'll not spend a farthing of thy money, depend upon it.

I'm not without some shillings of my own, I reckon.

Thee should let me love my enemies as well as thee, I think; but thee'lt want to go up to heaven alone next.' Stephen said no more, though Martha continued talking peevishly about Black Bess.

She was not at all satisfied in her own mind that she was doing right; but Bess had met her at a neighbour's house, where she was boasting of her skill in making pikelets, and she had been drawn out by her sneers and mocking to give her a kind of challenge to come and taste them.