‘vil out of me. But Stephen is cloſe-fiſted. When I aſk him for ſix-pence, he bluſters in the houſe, worſe than you do at times in the mountain. Then he caſts my poverty in my teeth, and I muſt needs hold my tongue. Had I but brought him a portion, I ſhould eaſily know how to ſtop his mouth.’
‘What is thy huſband’s trade?’
‘He is a glaſſman: he earns his bread hardly enough. The poor ſlave is obliged to carry an heavy burden quite from Bohemia hither every year; if he breaks a glaſs by the way, truly wife and children muſt pay for it; but love’s blows break no bones.’
‘And thou canſt love the man, that plays the game of wedlock ſo foully with thee?’
‘Why not? Is he not the father of my children? they will make all good again, and reward us well to boot, when they once grow up.’
‘Poor conſolation; I doubt children, for-
