George, or Gearge as he was commonly called, had been more than two
years in the windmill, and was looked upon in all respects as "one
of the family." He slept on a truckle-bed in the round-house,
which, though of average size, would not permit him to stretch his
legs too recklessly without exposing his feet to the cold.

For "Gearge" was six feet one and three-quarters in his stockings.

He had a face in some respects like a big baby's. He had a turn-up
nose, large smooth cheeks, a particularly innocent expression, a
forehead hardly worth naming, small dull eyes, with a tendency to
inflammation of the lids which may possibly have hindered the lashes
from growing, and a mouth which was generally open, if he were
neither eating nor sucking a "bennet." When this countenance was
bathed in flour, it might be an open question whether it were
improved or no. It certainly looked both "vairer" and more
"voolish!"

There is some evidence to show that he was "lazy," as well as
"lang," and yet he and Master Lake contrived to pull on together.

Either because his character was as childlike as his face, and
because--if stupid and slothful by nature--he was also of so
submissive, susceptible, and willing a temper that he disarmed the
justest wrath; or because he was, as he said, not such a fool as he
looked, and had in his own lubberly way taken the measure of the
masterful windmiller to a nicety, George's most flagrant acts of
neglect had never yet secured his dismissal.

Indeed, it really is difficult to realize that any one who is lavish