An old wagon creaked after them, and erect upon it was the tall and tattered figure of the farmer swinging his whip and yelling: "Whoa! Haw there! Git-ap!" The lash flicked and flew over the broad backs of the animals.
"Hello, father!" said Hawker.
"Whoa! Back! Whoa! Why, hello, William, what you doing here ?" "Oh, just taking a walk.

Miss Fanhall, this is my father.

Father----" "How d' you do ?" The old man balanced himself with care and then raised his straw hat from his head with a quick gesture and with what was perhaps a slightly apologetic air, as if he feared that he was rather over-doing the ceremonial part.
The girl later became very intent upon the oxen.

"Aren't they nice old things ?" she said, as she stood looking into the faces of the team.
"But what makes their eyes so very sad ?" "I dunno," said the old man.
She was apparently unable to resist a desire to pat the nose of the nearest ox, and for that purpose she stretched forth a cautious hand.
But the ox moved restlessly at the moment and the girl put her hand apprehensively behind herself and backed away.

The old man on the wagon grinned.