Mrs.Melcombe took the chair pushed up for her where, as John Mortimer said, she could see the view.
Laura followed, having snatched up a book of photographs, with which she could appear to be occupied, for she did not want to attract the gardener's attention by sitting farther than others did from the window; and as she mechanically turned the leaves, she hearkened keenly to Swan's remarks, and tried to decide that he was not like Joseph.
"The markiss, sir?
Yes, sir, his gardener, Mr.Fergus, took the best prize for strawberries and green peas.

You'll understand that those airly tates were from seedlings of my own--that's where their great merit lies, and why they were first.

They gave Blakis the cottagers' prize for lettuce; that I uphold was wrong.

Said I, 'Those lettuce heads that poor Raby shows air the biggest ever I set my eyes on,' 'Swan,' says Mr.Tikey, 'we must encourage them that has good characters.' 'Well, now, if you come to think, sir,' says I, 'it's upwards of ten years since Raby stole that pair of boots,' and I say (though they was my boots) that should be forgot now, and he should have the cottagers' prize, but stealing never gets forgiven." "Because it's such an inconvenient vice to those that have anything to lose," said Miss Christie.
"Yes, that's just it, ma'am.

You see the vices and virtues have got overhauled again, and sorted differently to suit our convenience.
Stealing's no worse _probly_ in the eyes of our Maker than lying and slandering; not so bad, mayhap, as a deep _sweer_.