“Well, that’s a thruth—­sure I’m not sayin’ against it.”

“I know that; but what I say is, if we hould an, we may make money.  Everything, for so far, has thruv wid us, God be praised for it.  There’s another thing in my mind, that I’ll be tellin’ you some o’ these days.”

“I believe, Ellish, you dhrame about makin’ money.”

“Well, an’ I might do worse; when I’m dhramin’ about it, I’m doin’ no sin to any one.  But, listen, you must keep the house to-morrow while I’m at the market.  Won’t you, Pether?”

“An’ who’s to open the dhrain in the bottom below?”

“That can be done the day afther.  Won’t you, abouchal?”

“Ellish, you’re a deludher, I tell you.  Sweet words;—­sowl, you’d smooth a furze bush wid sweet words.  How-an-ever, I will keep the house to-morrow, till we see the great things you’ll do wid your crockery.”

Ellish’s success was, to say the least of it, quite equal to, her expectations.  She was certainly an excellent wife, full of acuteness, industry, and enterprise.  Had Peter been married to a woman of a disposition resembling his own, it is probable that he would have sunk into indolence, filth, and poverty, these miseries might have soured their tempers, and driven them into all the low excesses and crimes attendant upon pauperism.  Ellish, however, had sufficient spirit to act upon Peter’s natural indolence, so as to excite it to the proper pitch.  Her mode of operation was judiciously suited to his temper.  Playfulness and kindness were the instruments by which she managed him.  She knew that violence, or the assumption of authority, would cause a man who, like him, was stern when provoked, to react, and meet her with an assertion of his rights and authority not to be trifled with.  This she consequently avoided, not entirely from any train of reasoning on the subject; but from that intuitive penetration which taught her to know that the plan she had resorted to was best calculated to make him subservient to her own purposes, without causing him to feel that he was governed.

Indeed, every day brought out her natural cleverness more clearly.  Her intercourse with the world afforded her that facility of understanding the tempers and dispositions of others, which can never be acquired when it has not been bestowed as a natural gift.  In her hands it was a valuable one.  By degrees her house improved in its appearance, both inside and outside.  From crockery she proceeded to herrings, then to salt, in each of which she dealt with surprising success.  There was, too, such an air of bustle, activity, and good-humor about her that people loved to deal with her.  Her appearance was striking, if not grotesque.  She was tall and strong, walked rapidly, and when engaged in fair or market disposing of her coarse merchandise, was dressed in a short red petticoat, blue stockings, strong brogues, wore a blue cloak, with the hood turned up, over her head,