“Aye,” said Mr. Poyser, looking jocose; “but thee dostna tell Adam what he said to thee about it one day.  The missis was saying, Adam, as the preaching was the only fault to be found wi’ Dinah, and Mr. Irwine says, ’But you mustn’t find fault with her for that, Mrs. Poyser; you forget she’s got no husband to preach to.  I’ll answer for it, you give Poyser many a good sermon.’  The parson had thee there,” Mr. Poyser added, laughing unctuously.  “I told Bartle Massey on it, an’ he laughed too.”

“Yes, it’s a small joke sets men laughing when they sit a-staring at one another with a pipe i’ their mouths,” said Mrs. Poyser.  “Give Bartle Massey his way and he’d have all the sharpness to himself.  If the chaff-cutter had the making of us, we should all be straw, I reckon.  Totty, my chicken, go upstairs to cousin Dinah, and see what she’s doing, and give her a pretty kiss.”

This errand was devised for Totty as a means of checking certain threatening symptoms about the corners of the mouth; for Tommy, no longer expectant of cake, was lifting up his eyelids with his forefingers and turning his eyeballs towards Totty in a way that she felt to be disagreeably personal.

“You’re rare and busy now—­eh, Adam?” said Mr. Poyser.  “Burge’s getting so bad wi’ his asthmy, it’s well if he’ll ever do much riding about again.”

“Yes, we’ve got a pretty bit o’ building on hand now,” said Adam, “what with the repairs on th’ estate, and the new houses at Treddles’on.”

“I’ll bet a penny that new house Burge is building on his own bit o’ land is for him and Mary to go to,” said Mr. Poyser.  “He’ll be for laying by business soon, I’ll warrant, and be wanting you to take to it all and pay him so much by th’ ‘ear.  We shall see you living on th’ hill before another twelvemont’s over.”

“Well,” said Adam, “I should like t’ have the business in my own hands.  It isn’t as I mind much about getting any more money.  We’ve enough and to spare now, with only our two selves and mother; but I should like t’ have my own way about things—­I could try plans then, as I can’t do now.”

“You get on pretty well wi’ the new steward, I reckon?” said Mr. Poyser.

“Yes, yes; he’s a sensible man enough; understands farming—­he’s carrying on the draining, and all that, capital.  You must go some day towards the Stonyshire side and see what alterations they’re making.  But he’s got no notion about buildings.  You can so seldom get hold of a man as can turn his brains to more nor one thing; it’s just as if they wore blinkers like th’ horses and could see nothing o’ one side of ’em.  Now, there’s Mr. Irwine has got notions o’ building more nor most architects; for as for th’ architects, they set up to be fine fellows, but the most of ’em don’t know where to set a chimney so as it shan’t be quarrelling with a door.  My notion is, a practical builder that’s got a bit o’ taste makes the best architect for common things; and I’ve ten times the pleasure i’ seeing after the work when I’ve made the plan myself.”