“Proper is your saying,” Evan agreed.  “Perform I would if I could.”

“Biggish is your round, perhaps?” said Dai.

“Iss-iss.  No-no.”  Evan was confused.

“Don’t be afraid of your work.  Crafty is your manner.”

Evan had not anything to say.

“Fortune there is in milk,” said Dai.  “Study you the size of her.  Little she is.  Heavy will be my loss.  The rent is only fifteen bob a week.  And thirty gallons and more do I do.  Broke is my health,” and Dai laid the palms of his hands on his belly and groaned.

“Here he is to visit his wench,” said Mrs. Jenkins.

“You’re not married now just?” asked Dai.

“Better in his pockets trousers is a male for a woman,” said Mrs. Jenkins.

“Comforting in your pockets trousers is a woman,” Dai cried.

“Clap your throat,” said Mrs. Jenkins.  “Redness you bring to my skin.”

Evan retired and considered.

“Tempting is the business,” he told Mary.  “Fancy do I to know more of her.  Come must I still once yet.”

“Be not slothful,” Mary pleaded.  “Already I feel pains, and quickly the months pass.”

Then Evan charged her to watch over the shop, and to take a count of the people who went into it.  So Mary walked in the street.  Mrs. Jenkins saw her and imagined her purpose, and after she had proved her, she and Dai formed a plot whereby many little children and young youths and girls came into the shop.  Mary numbered every one, but the number that she gave Evan was three times higher than the proper number.  The man was pleased, and he spoke out to Dai.  “Tell me the price of the shop,” he said.

“Improved has the health,” replied Dai.  “And not selling I don’t think am I.”

“Pity that is.  Great offer I have.”

“Smother your cry.  Taken a shop too have I in Petersham.  Rachel will look after this.”

Mrs. Jenkins spoke to her husband with a low voice:  “Witless you are.  Let him speak figures.”

“As you want if you like then,” said Dai.

“A puzzle you demand this one minute,” Evan murmured.  “Thirty pounds would—­”

“Light is your head,” Dai cried.

“More than thirty gallons and a pram.  Eighty I want for the shop and stock.”

“I stop,” Evan pronounced.  “Thirty-five can I give.  No more and no less.”

“Cute bargainer you are.  Generous am I to give back five pounds for luck cash on spot.  Much besides is my counter trade.”

“Bring me papers for my eyes to see,” said Evan.

Mrs. Jenkins rebuked Evan:  “Hoity-toity!  Not Welsh you are.  Old English boy.”

“Tut-tut, Rachel fach,” said Dai.  “Right you are, and right and wrong is Evan Roberts.  Books I should have.  Trust I give and trust I take.  I have no guile.”

“How answer you to thirty-seven?” asked Evan.  “No more we’ve got, drop dead and blind.”

He went away and related all to Mary.