bare by sunset, squire. That isn't bad for these days. When I was young
we wouldn't have thought so much of two thousand, but every dalesman
then knew what good shearing was. _Now_," and the old man shook his head
slowly, "good shearers are few and far between. Why, there's some here
from beyond Kirkstone Pass and Nab Scar!"

It was customary for young people of all conditions to give men as aged
as Barf Latrigg the honorable name of "grandfather;" and Charlotte said,
as she sat down in the breezy shadow beside him, "Who is first,
grandfather?"

"Why, our Stephen, to be sure! They'll have to be up before day-dawn to
keep sidey with our Steve.--Steve, how many is thou ahead now?" The
voice that asked the question, though full of triumph, was thin and
weak; but the answer came back in full, mellow tones,--

"Fifteen ahead, grandfather."

"Oh, I'm so glad!"

"Charlotte Sandal says 'she's so glad.' Now then, if thou loses ground,
I wouldn't give a ha'penny for thee."

Then the women who were folding the fleeces on tables under the other
two sycamores lifted their eyes, and glanced at Steve; and some of the
elder ones sent him a merry jibe, and some of the younger ones, smiles,
that made his brown handsome face deepen in color; but he was far too
earnest in his work to spare a moment for a reply. By and by, the squire
put down his pipe, and sat watching with his hands upon his knees. And a
stray child crept up to Charlotte, and climbed upon her lap, and went to