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Our Parish Clerk
197

"One can say much in a summer day," said the man; "but I can't understand what this points to."

"Is it so?" said the lad. "Well, I have long thought of telling you that our clerk is often and ever in our house with the mistress, and how they lived as though there was a bridal every day, while we scarce get so much as the leavings of their good cheer."

"'He who will ever taste and try,
Will burn his fingers in the pie,'"

said his master. "I don't believe a word of what you say."

"It's a strange ear that will never hear," said the lad; "but seeing is believing, and if you will listen to me, I'm ready to wager ten dollars that you shall soon have the proof in your own hands."

"Done," said the master; he would bet ten dollars; nay, for that matter he would bet horse and farm, and a hundred dollars into the bargain.

Well, that wager was to stand. "But an old fox is hard to hunt," said the lad, and so his master must say and do all that his ploughboy wished. When they got home, he was to say they must set off for the river and land timber, and his wife must put up some food for them in hot haste; it was best to look out while the weather was fine, it might turn to storm in a trice. Yes! that was what the husband said, and the food was ready to the minute. The lad put the horses to the timber drags, and off they went, but no farther than half a mile; there they put the horses up at a farm, and turned in themselves. As the night