“The jolly-jist,—­Professor Sedgwick really.  Joe has been on the fells with the professor.”

So they drew around the fire, and Sophia went for the letters.  She was a good reader, and could give the county peculiarities with all their quaint variations of mood and temper and accent.  She was quite aware that the reading would exhibit her in an entirely new role to Julius, and she entered upon the task with all the confidence and enthusiasm which insured the entertainment.  And as both Professor Sedgwick and Joe Bulteel were well known to the squire and Harry, they entered into the joke also with all their hearts; and one peal of laughter followed another, as the squire’s comments made many a distinct addition to the unconscious humor of the letters.

At that point of the story where Joe had triumphantly pocketed his last five shillings, and gone home reflecting on what a “famous job it would be to sell all the stones on their fell at five shillings a little bagful,” Mrs. Sandal entered.  A servant followed with spiced wine and dainty bits of cake and pastry; and then, after a merry interval of comment and refreshment, Sophia resumed the narrative.

All this happened at the end of May, Miss Sandal; and one day last August father went down Lorton way, and it was gayly late when he got home.  As he was sitting on his own side the fire, trying to loose the buttons of his spats, he said to Joe, “I called at Skeal-Hill on my road home.”  Mother was knitting at her side of the hearth.  She hadn’t opened her mouth since father came home; nay, she hadn’t so much as looked at him after the one hard glower that she gave him at first; but when he said he’d been at Skeal-Hill, she gave a grunt, and said, as if she spoke to nobody but herself, “Ay, a blind body might see that.”—­“I was speaking to Joe,” said father.  “Joe,” said he again, “I was at Skeal-Hill,”—­mother gave another grunt then,—­“and they told me that thy old friend the jolly-jist is back again.  I think thou had better step down, and see if he wants to buy any more broken stones; old Abraham has a fine heap or two lying aside Kirgat.”  Joe thought he had done many a dafter thing than take father at his word, whether he meant it or not; and so thought, so done, for next morning he took himself off to Skeal-Hill.

When he got there, and asked if the jolly-jist was stirring yet, one servant snorted, and another grunted, till Joe got rather maddish; but at last one of them skipjacks of fellows, that wear a little jacket like a lass’s bedgown, said he would see.  He came back laughing, and said, “Come this way, Joe.”  Well, our Joe followed him till he stopped before a room door; and he gave a little knock, and then opened it, and says he, “Joe, sir.”  Joe wasn’t going to stand that; and he said, “‘Joe, sir,’ he’ll ken its ‘Joe, sir,’ as soon as he sees the face of me.  And get out with thy ‘Joe, sir,’ or I’ll make thee laugh at the wrong