'
Dolly listened with a devout look, glancing at Marner in some
confidence that this strain would help to allure him to church.
'That's Christmas music,' she said, when Aaron had ended, and had
secured his piece of cake again. 'There's no other music equil to
the Christmas music- "Hark the erol angils sing." And you may judge
what it is at church, Master Marner, with the bassoon and the
voices, as you can't help thinking you've got to a better place
a'ready- for I wouldn't speak ill o' this world, seeing as Them put us
in it as knows best; but what wi' the drink, and the quarrelling,
and the bad illnesses, and the hard dying, as I've seen times and
times, one's thankful to hear of a better. The boy sings pretty, don't
he, Master Marner?'
'Yes,' said Silas, absently, 'very pretty.'
The Christmas carol, with its hammer-like rhythm, had fallen on his
ears as strange music, quite unlike a hymn, and could have none of the
effect Dolly contemplated. But he wanted to show her that he was
grateful, and the only mode that occurred to him was to offer Aaron
a bit more cake.
'Oh, no, thank you, Master Marner,' said Dolly, holding down
Aaron's willing hands. 'We must be going home now. And so I wish you
good-bye, Master Marner; and if you ever feel anyways bad in your
inside, as you can't fend for yourself, I'll come and clean up for
you, and get you a bit o' victual, and willing.
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