Wolf and the Lamb, and" -

"I knows now," said George. "'Tis like the last verse of that song
about the Harnet and the Bittle. Go on, Abel."

"Mortal. That's swearing. Moses. That's in the Bible, Gearge.
Motive. I thought I'd try un just once more. 'What's a motive,
Dame?' says I. 'I've got un here,' says she, quite quiet-like. But
I seed her feeling under 's chair, and I know'd 'twas for the strap,
and I ran straight off, spelling-book and all, Gearge."

"So thee've been playing moocher, eh?" said George, with an
unpleasant twinkle in his eyes. "What'll Master Lake say to that?"

"Don't 'ee tell un, Gearge!" Abel implored; "and, O Gearge! let I
tell mother about the word. Maybe she've heard tell of it. Let I
show her the letter, Gearge. She'll read it for 'ee. She's a
scholard, is mother."

There was no mistaking now the wrath in George's face. The fury
that is fed by fear blazes pretty strongly at all times.

"Look 'ee, Abel, my boy," said he, pinching Abel's shoulder till he
turned red and white with pain. "If thee ever speaks of that letter
and that word to any mortal soul, I'll tell Master Lake thee plays
moocher, and I'll half kill thee myself. Thee shall rue the day
ever thee was born!" he added, almost beside himself with rage and
terror. And as, after a few propitiating words, Abel fled from the
mill, George ground his hands together and muttered, "Motive! I
wish the old witch had motived every bone in thee body, or let me do