face. "Spell it, mun, spell it!" cried the miller's man,
impatiently. It was a process which he had seen to succeed, when a
long word had puzzled his teacher in the newspaper, before now.

"M O E R, mower; D Y K, dik," said Abel. But he looked none the
wiser for the effort.

"Mower dik! What be that?" said George, peering at the word.
"Do'ee think it be Mower dik, Abel?"

"I be sure," said Abel.

"Or do 'ee think 'tis 'My dear Dick'?" suggested George, anxiously,
and with a sort of triumph in his tone, as if that were quite what
he expected.

"No, no. 'Tis an O, Gearge, that second letter. Besides, twould be
My dear Gearge to thee, thou knows."

Again the look with which the miller's man favored Abel was far from
pleasant. But he controlled his voice to its ordinary drawl (always
a little slower and more simple sounding, when he specially meant
mischief).

"So 'twould, Abel. So 'twould. What a vool I be, to be sure! But
give it to I now. We'll look at it another time, Abel."

"I be very sorry, Gearge," said Abel, who had a consciousness that
the miller's man was ill-pleased in spite of his civility. "It be
so long since I was at school, and it be such a queer word. Do 'ee