'
'Fayder,' said Aaron, whose feet were busy beating out the tune,
'how does that big cock's-feather stick in Mrs Crackenthorp's yead? Is
there a little hole for it, like in my shuttle-cock?'
'Hush, lad, hush; that's the way the ladies dress theirselves, that
is,' said the father, adding, however, in an undertone to Mr Macey,
'It does make her look funny, though- partly like a short-necked
bottle wi' a long quill in it. Hey, by jingo, there's the young Squire
leading off now, wi' Miss Nancy for partners. There's a lass for you!-
like a pink-and-white posy- there's nobody 'ud think as anybody
could be so pritty. I shouldn't wonder if she's Madam Cass some day,
arter all- and nobody more rightfuller, for they'd make a fine
match. You can find nothing against Master Godfrey's shapes, Macey,
I'll bet a penny.'
Mr Macey screwed up his mouth, leaned his head further on one side,
and twirled his thumbs with a presto movement as his eyes followed
Godfrey up the dance. At last he summed up his opinion.
'Pretty well down'ard, but a bit too round i' the
shoulder-blades. And as for them coats as he gets from the Flitton
tailor, they're a poor cut to pay double money for.'
'Ah, Mr Macey, you and me are two folks,' said Ben, slightly
indignant at this carping. 'When I've got a pot o' good ale, I like to
swaller it, and do my inside good i'stead o' smelling and staring at
it to see if I can't find faut wi' the brewing.
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