jug under and forgets to turn the tap, as there's nothing you can't believe o' them wenches: they'll set th' empty kettle o' the fire, and then come an hour after to see if the water boils."
"She's drawin' for the men too," said Mr Poyser. "Thee shouldst ha' told her to bring our jug up first."
"Told her?" said Mrs Poyser: "yis, I might spend all the wind i' my body, an' take the bellows too, if I was to tell them gells everything as their own sharpness wonna tell 'em. Mr Bede, will you take some vinegar with your lettuce? Ay, you're i' the right not. It spoils the flavour o' the chine, to my thinking. It's poor eating where the flavour o' the meat lies i' the cruets. There's folks as make bad butter, and trusten to the salt t' hide it."
Mrs Poyser's attention was here diverted by the appearance of Molly, carrying a large jug, two small mugs, and four drinking-cans, all full of ale or small beer—an interesting example of the prehensile power possessed by the human hand. Poor Molly's mouth was rather wider open than usual, as she walked along with her eyes fixed on the double cluster of vessels in her hands, quite innocent of the expression in her mistress's eye.
