"Hasn't William Smallbury been to Casterbridge?"

"Yes, ma'am, but he's not yet come home. He promised to be back by
six."

"It wants a quarter to six at present," said Bathsheba, looking at
her watch. "I daresay he'll be in directly. Well, now then"--she
looked into the book--"Joseph Poorgrass, are you there?"

"Yes, sir--ma'am I mane," said the person addressed. "I be the
personal name of Poorgrass."

"And what are you?"

"Nothing in my own eye. In the eye of other people--well, I don't
say it; though public thought will out."

"What do you do on the farm?"

"I do do carting things all the year, and in seed time I shoots the
rooks and sparrows, and helps at pig-killing, sir."

"How much to you?"

"Please nine and ninepence and a good halfpenny where 'twas a bad
one, sir--ma'am I mane."

"Quite correct. Now here are ten shillings in addition as a small
present, as I am a new comer."