Only their faces twitched now and again.
"I hear you had the preacher down to Joll's last night," said Mendarva the Smith.

"What'st think of en ?" "I can't make him out," was Taffy's colourless but truthful answer.
"He's a bellows of a man.

I do hear he's heating up th' old Squire Moyle's soul to knack an angel out of en.

He'll find that a job and a half.

You mark my words, there'll be Dover over in your parish one o' these days." During work-hours Mendarva bestowed most of his talk on Taffy.
The Dane seldom opened his lips except to join in the anvil chorus-- "Here goes one-- Sing, sing, Johnny! Here goes two-- Sing, Johnny, sing! Whack'n till he's red, Whack'n till he's dead, And whop! goes the widow with A brand new ring!" And when the boy took a hammer and joined in he fell silent.
Taffy soon observed that a singular friendship knit these two men, who were both unmarried.