an' you can't say I ever come creepin' up on you, or tryin' to
lead you further in than you set out--"

A year ago George would have danced with impatience. Now he
scraped a little mud off his old gaiters with his spud, and
waited.

"All I say is that you can put up larch and make a temp'ry job of
it; and by the time the young master's married it'll have to be
done again. Now, I've brought down a couple of as sweet
six-by-eight oak timbers as we've ever drawed. You put 'em in an'
it's off your mind or good an' all. T'other way--I don't say it
ain't right, I'm only just sayin' what I think--but t'other way,
he'll no sooner be married than we'll lave it all to do again.
You've no call to regard my words, but you can't get out of
that."

"No," said George after a pause; "I've been realising that for
some time. Make it oak then; we can't get out of it."



THE RECALL

I am the land of their fathers,
In me the virtue stays;
I will bring back my children,
After certain days.
Under their feet in the grasses
My clinging magic runs.