its windows.

The door was open, and Dame Rogers came from within to meet me. She
welcomed me, and led the way into her little kitchen. As I entered,
Jane went out at the back-door. But it was only to call her father,
who presently came in.

"I'm glad to see ye, sir. This pleasure comes of having no work
to-day. After harvest there comes slack times for the likes of me.
People don't care about a bag of old bones when they can get hold of
young men. Well, well, never mind, old woman. The Lord'll take us
through somehow. When the wind blows, the ship goes; when the wind
drops, the ship stops; but the sea is His all the same, for He made
it; and the wind is His all the same too."

He spoke in the most matter-of-fact tone, unaware of anything poetic
in what he said. To him it was just common sense, and common sense
only.

"I am sorry you are out of work," I said. "But my garden is sadly
out of order, and I must have something done to it. You don't
dislike gardening, do you?"

"Well, I beant a right good hand at garden-work," answered the old
man, with some embarrassment, scratching his gray head with a
troubled scratch.

There was more in this than met the ear; but what, I could not
conjecture. I would press the point a little. So I took him at his
own word.