Adam was rather paler than usual when he got up to thank his friends.  He was a good deal moved by this public tribute—­very naturally, for he was in the presence of all his little world, and it was uniting to do him honour.  But he felt no shyness about speaking, not being troubled with small vanity or lack of words; he looked neither awkward nor embarrassed, but stood in his usual firm upright attitude, with his head thrown a little backward and his hands perfectly still, in that rough dignity which is peculiar to intelligent, honest, well-built workmen, who are never wondering what is their business in the world.

“I’m quite taken by surprise,” he said.  “I didn’t expect anything o’ this sort, for it’s a good deal more than my wages.  But I’ve the more reason to be grateful to you, Captain, and to you, Mr. Irwine, and to all my friends here, who’ve drunk my health and wished me well.  It ’ud be nonsense for me to be saying, I don’t at all deserve th’ opinion you have of me; that ’ud be poor thanks to you, to say that you’ve known me all these years and yet haven’t sense enough to find out a great deal o’ the truth about me.  You think, if I undertake to do a bit o’ work, I’ll do it well, be my pay big or little—­and that’s true.  I’d be ashamed to stand before you here if it wasna true.  But it seems to me that’s a man’s plain duty, and nothing to be conceited about, and it’s pretty clear to me as I’ve never done more than my duty; for let us do what we will, it’s only making use o’ the sperrit and the powers that ha’ been given to us.  And so this kindness o’ yours, I’m sure, is no debt you owe me, but a free gift, and as such I accept it and am thankful.  And as to this new employment I’ve taken in hand, I’ll only say that I took it at Captain Donnithorne’s desire, and that I’ll try to fulfil his expectations.  I’d wish for no better lot than to work under him, and to know that while I was getting my own bread I was taking care of his int’rests.  For I believe he’s one o those gentlemen as wishes to do the right thing, and to leave the world a bit better than he found it, which it’s my belief every man may do, whether he’s gentle or simple, whether he sets a good bit o’ work going and finds the money, or whether he does the work with his own hands.  There’s no occasion for me to say any more about what I feel towards him:  I hope to show it through the rest o’ my life in my actions.”

There were various opinions about Adam’s speech:  some of the women whispered that he didn’t show himself thankful enough, and seemed to speak as proud as could be; but most of the men were of opinion that nobody could speak more straightfor’ard, and that Adam was as fine a chap as need to be.  While such observations were being buzzed about, mingled with wonderings as to what the old squire meant to do for a bailiff, and whether he was going to have a steward, the two gentlemen had risen, and were walking round to the table where the wives and children sat.  There was none of the strong ale here, of course, but wine and dessert—­sparkling gooseberry for the young ones, and some good sherry for the mothers.  Mrs. Poyser was at the head of this table, and Totty was now seated in her lap, bending her small nose deep down into a wine-glass in search of the nuts floating there.