smock-frocks so clane; very honest too. His ghastly looks is all there
is against en, poor feller; but we can't help our looks, you know, sir."

"True: we cannot. You live with your mother, I think, Leaf?"

The tranter looked at Leaf to express that the most friendly assistant to
his tongue could do no more for him now, and that he must be left to his
own resources.

"Yes, sir: a widder, sir. Ah, if brother Jim had lived she'd have had a
clever son to keep her without work!"

"Indeed! poor woman. Give her this half-crown. I'll call and see your
mother."

"Say, 'Thank you, sir,'" the tranter whispered imperatively towards Leaf.

"Thank you, sir!" said Leaf.

"That's it, then; sit down, Leaf," said Mr. Maybold.

"Y-yes, sir!"

The tranter cleared his throat after this accidental parenthesis about
Leaf, rectified his bodily position, and began his speech.

"Mr. Mayble," he said, "I hope you'll excuse my common way, but I always
like to look things in the face."

Reuben made a point of fixing this sentence in the vicar's mind by gazing