"I'm always coming to have a look round at your wonderful flower-bed,"
said Richard, "and some Sunday morning, during church hours, I will do
so; but you know how busy we all are in August. And I don't want no
flowers; but I want the run of your four-stall stable. There's a 'beano'
coming over from Lyme and I'm full up already."

"Never no need to ask," she answered. "I'll tell Job to set a man on to
it."

He thanked her very heartily and she gave him a rose. Then he admired
the grass, knowing that she prided herself upon it.

"Never seen such grass anywhere else in Bridport," he assured her.
"There's lots try to grow grass like yours; but none can come near
this."

"'Tis Job's work," she told him. "He's a Northerner and had the charge
of a bowling-green at his uncle's public; and what he don't know about
grass ain't worth knowing."

"He's a sheet-anchor, that man," confessed Richard; "a sheet-anchor and
a tower of strength, as you might say."

"I don't deny it," admitted Nelly. "Sometimes, in a calm moment, I run
my mind over Job Legg, and I'm almost ashamed to think how much I owe
him."

"It ain't all one way, however. He's got a snug place, and no potman in
Dorset draws more money, though there's some who draws more beer."