spade handle to his hair, which was combed down to his eyebrows.
"Your ladyship does me proud to take refuge from the onclemency of the
yallovrments beneath my 'umble rooftree." His accent was barbarous; and
he, like a low comedian, seemed to relish its vulgarity. As he spoke he
came in among them for shelter, and propped his spade against the wall
of the chalet, kicking the soil from his hobnailed blucher boots, which
were new.

"I came out, honored lady," he resumed, much at his ease, "to house my
spade, whereby I earn my living. What the pen is to the poet, such is
the spade to the working man." He took the kerchief from his neck, wiped
his temples as if the sweat of honest toil were there, and calmly tied
it on again.

"If you'll 'scuse a remark from a common man," he observed, "your
ladyship has a fine family of daughters."

"They are not my daughters," said Miss Wilson, rather shortly.

"Sisters, mebbe?"

"No."

"I thought they mout be, acause I have a sister myself. Not that I would
make bold for to dror comparisons, even in my own mind, for she's only a
common woman--as common a one as ever you see. But few women rise above
the common. Last Sunday, in yon village church, I heard the minister
read out that one man in a thousand had he found, 'but one woman in all
these,' he says, 'have I not found,' and I thinks to myself, 'Right you
are!' But I warrant he never met your ladyship."