"Why for you palaver about
breeding to the preacher? Cross I will be."
"Be you quiet now, Martha," said Tim. "Lock your tongue."
"Send a letter to Winnie for a rabbit; two rabbits if she is small,"
ordered Eylwin. "And not see your faults will I."
Tim and Martha were perplexed and communed with each other; and Tim
walked to Wimbledon where he was not known and so have his errand
guessed. He bought a rabbit and carried it to the door of the minister's
house. "A rabbit from Winnie fach in Wales," he said.
"Eat her I will before I judge her," replied Eylwin; and after he had
eaten it he said: "Quite fair was the animal. Serious dirty is the
capel. As I flap my hand on the cushion Bible in my eloquence, like
chimney smoke is the dust. Clean you at once. For are not the
anniversary meetings on the sixth Sabbath? All the rich Welsh will be
there, and Enoch Harries and the wife of him."
He came often to view Tim and Martha at their labor.
"Fortunate is your wench to have holiday," he said one day. "Hard have
preachers to do in the vineyard."
"Hear we did this morning," Tim began to speak.
"In a hurry am I," Eylwin interrupted.
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