MRS. BURLACOMBE. Aw! Did 'e now? Serve 'er right, bringin' an
'eathen bird to confirmation class.

CONNIE. I'll take it to her.

MRS. BURLACOMBE. No. Yu leave it there, an' let Mr. Strangway du
what 'e likes with it. Bringin' a bird like that! Well 'I never!

[The girls, perceiving that they have lighted on stony soil,
look at each other and slide towards the door.]

MRS. BURLACOMBE. Yes, yu just be off, an' think on what yu've been
told in class, an' be'ave like Christians, that's gude maids. An'
don't yu come no more in the 'avenin's dancin' them 'eathen dances in
my barn, naighther, till after yu'm confirmed--'tisn't right. I've
told Ivy I won't 'ave it.

CONNIE. Mr. Strangway don't mind--he likes us to; 'twas Mrs.
Strangway began teachin' us. He's goin' to give a prize.

MRS. BURLACOMBE. Yu just du what I tell yu an' never mind Mr.
Strangway--he'm tu kind to everyone. D'yu think I don't know how
gells oughter be'ave before confirmation? Yu be'ave like I did!
Now, goo ahn! Shoo!

[She hustles them out, rather as she might hustle her chickens,
and begins tidying the room. There comes a wandering figure to
the open window. It is that of a man of about thirty-five, of
feeble gait, leaning the weight of all one side of him on a
stick. His dark face, with black hair, one lock of which has