"Why, ye've hardly had strength of eye enough to look in our young mis'ess's face, so I hear, Joseph ?" All looked at Joseph Poorgrass with pitying reproach.
"No--I've hardly looked at her at all," simpered Joseph, reducing his body smaller whilst talking, apparently from a meek sense of undue prominence.

"And when I seed her, 'twas nothing but blushes with me!" "Poor feller," said Mr.Clark.
"'Tis a curious nature for a man," said Jan Coggan.
"Yes," continued Joseph Poorgrass--his shyness, which was so painful as a defect, filling him with a mild complacency now that it was regarded as an interesting study.

"'Twere blush, blush, blush with me every minute of the time, when she was speaking to me." "I believe ye, Joseph Poorgrass, for we all know ye to be a very bashful man." "'Tis a' awkward gift for a man, poor soul," said the maltster.

"And how long have ye have suffered from it, Joseph ?" [a] [Transcriber's note a: Alternate text, appears in all three editions on hand: "'Tis a' awkward gift for a man, poor soul," said the maltster.

"And ye have suffered from it a long time, we know." "Ay, ever since..."] "Oh, ever since I was a boy.