_Mrs. G_. Nay, nay, not all.

_Mrs. J_. I ask your pardon, neighbour; you be right. Not all.

_Mrs. G_. And my sweet maid scarce three months dead.

_Mrs. J_. I ask your pardon truly.

_Mrs. G_. No, my dear,
Thou'lt never see old days. I cannot stint
To fret, the maiden was but twelve years old,
So toward, such a scholar.

_Mrs. S._ Ay, when God,
That knows, comes down to choose, He'll take the best.

_Mrs. T._ But I'm right glad you came, it pleases _them_.
My son, that loves his book, 'Mother,' said he,
'Go to the Reading when you have a chance,
For there you get a change, and you see life.'
But Reading or no Reading, I am slow
To learn. When parson after comes his rounds,
'Did it,' to ask with a persuading smile,
'Open your mind?' the woman doth not live
Feels more a fool.

_Mrs. J._ I always tell him 'Yes,'
For he means well. Ay, and I like the songs.
Have you heard say what they shall read to-night?