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ONE:"Oh, my liddle thing! My dear liddle thing ... my sweet liddle thing!" TWO:They could not help wondering at his strenuousness, his unlimited capacity for work, though they failed to understand or sympathise with the object that inspired them. Blackman, grumbling and perplexed, had gone off early in March to the milder energies of Raisins Farm; Becky, for want of a place, had married the drover at Kitchenhour��and it was no empty boast of[Pg 34] Reuben's that he would take the greater part of their work on his own shoulders. From half-past four in the morning till nine at night he laboured almost without rest. He drove the cows to pasture, milked them, and stalled them��he followed the plough over the spring-sown crops, he groomed and watered the horses, he fed the fowls, watched the clutches, fattened capons for market��he cleaned the pigsty, and even built a new one in a couple of strenuous days��he bent his back over his spade among the roots, over his barrow, wheeling loads of manure��he was like a man who has been starved and at last finds a square meal before him. He had all the true workman's rewards��the heart-easing ache of tired muscles, the good bath of sweat in the sun's heat, the delicious sprawl, every sinew limp and throbbing, in his bed at nights��and then sleep, dreamless, healing, making new.Rose did not talk much, but she ate heartily��she must be as healthy as she looked. Once or twice during the meal Reuben caught himself staring at her lips��they were extraordinarily red, and at the end of the meal the juice of her pudding had stained them purple.

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