But all at once,
I couldn't abide the chap. 'Sir,' says I, trying to look
shamefaced as became the occasion, but for all that feeling a
twittering round my mouth that I were afeard might end in a
laugh--'Master Dixon, I'm obleeged to you for the compliment, and
thank ye all the same, but I think I'd prefer a single life.' He
looked mighty taken aback; but in a minute he cleared up, and was
as sweet as ever. He still kept on his knees, and I wished he'd
take himself up; but, I reckon, he thought it would give force to
his words; says he, 'Think again, my dear Sally. I've a
four-roomed house, and furniture conformable; and eighty pound a
year. You may never have such a chance again.' There were truth
enough in that, but it was not pretty in the man to say it; and
it put me up a bit. 'As for that, neither you nor I can tell,
Master Dixon. You're not the first chap as I've had down on his
knees afore me, axing me to marry him (you see I were thinking of
John Rawson, only I thought there were no need to say he were on
all-fours--it were truth he were on his knees, you know), and
maybe you'll not be the last. Anyhow, I've no wish to change my
condition just now.' 'I'll wait till Christmas,' says he. 'I've a
pig as will be ready for killing then, so I must get married
before that.' Well now! would you believe it? the pig was a
temptation. I'd a receipt for curing hams, as Miss Faith would
never let me try, saying the old way were good enough.
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