"Come, let's
toss for it." The which we did and the lot fell to Jessamy. "A couple
o' shins o' beef, loaves an' what vegetables?"
"Get some of all sorts!" nodded the Tinker.
"We've plenty o' potatoes an' onions!" said Diana. "And bring 'em as
early as possible, Jess; a shin o' beef ought to simmer for hours."
"Cheerily it is, Ann!" and catching up the canvas bag, Jessamy
flourished his hat and strode off.
"How does Jessamy contrive to live?" I enquired.
"Lord, Peregrine," answered the Tinker, "Jessamy's rich--or was--made
a fortun' wi' his fists, though I reckon he's give most of it away,
like the tender-hearted cove he is."
And now, while Diana busied herself in matters culinary, Jeremy and I
lighted the forge and got us to work. And very often above the ring
and clamour of our hammers would rise the wonder of her voice singing
some wild air of the Zingari or plaintive old ballad; so often and so
gloriously she sang that at last, as I blew the fire for another heat,
Jeremy bade me hush, and silent thus we stood to hearken.
"Peregrine," said he at last, "I knew Ann's voice was a wonder, but I
never heard her sing so blithe an' happy-'earted. I wonder why?"
"Perhaps it is this wonderful morning," said I, watching the flutter
of her gown amid the thickets across the little glade.
"Aye, most likely, for 't is surely a day o' glory, lad, a glory as is
a-shining at me this moment out o' your eyes, Peregrine, singing in
your voice--"
"Jeremy," said I, reaching out to grasp his grimy hand, "O Jeremy, you
are right.
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