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“
How
long
has
tha
’
been
here
?
”
he
jerked
out
.
“
I
think
it
’
s
about
a
month
,
”
she
answered
.
“
Tha
’
s
beginnin
’
to
do
Misselthwaite
credit
,
”
he
said
.
“
Tha
’
s
a
bit
fatter
than
tha
’
was
an
’
tha
’
s
not
quite
so
yeller
.
Tha
’
looked
like
a
young
plucked
crow
when
tha
’
first
came
into
this
garden
.
Thinks
I
to
myself
I
never
set
eyes
on
an
uglier
,
sourer
faced
young
’
un
.
”
Mary
was
not
vain
and
as
she
had
never
thought
much
of
her
looks
she
was
not
greatly
disturbed
.
“
I
know
I
’
m
fatter
,
”
she
said
.
“
My
stockings
are
getting
tighter
.
They
used
to
make
wrinkles
.
There
’
s
the
robin
,
Ben
Weatherstaff
.
”
There
,
indeed
,
was
the
robin
,
and
she
thought
he
looked
nicer
than
ever
.
His
red
waistcoat
was
as
glossy
as
satin
and
he
flirted
his
wings
and
tail
and
tilted
his
head
and
hopped
about
with
all
sorts
of
lively
graces
.
He
seemed
determined
to
make
Ben
Weatherstaff
admire
him
.
But
Ben
was
sarcastic
.
“
Aye
,
there
tha
’
art
!
”
he
said
.
“
Tha
’
can
put
up
with
me
for
a
bit
sometimes
when
tha
’
s
got
no
one
better
.
Tha
’
s
been
reddenin
’
up
thy
waistcoat
an
’
polishin
’
thy
feathers
this
two
weeks
.
I
know
what
tha
’
s
up
to
.
Tha
’
s
courtin
’
some
bold
young
madam
somewhere
tellin
’
thy
lies
to
her
about
bein
’
th
’
finest
cock
robin
on
Missel
Moor
an
’
ready
to
fight
all
th
’
rest
of
’
em
.
”
“
Oh
!
look
at
him
!
”
exclaimed
Mary
.
The
robin
was
evidently
in
a
fascinating
,
bold
mood
.
He
hopped
closer
and
closer
and
looked
at
Ben
Weatherstaff
more
and
more
engagingly
.
He
flew
on
to
the
nearest
currant
bush
and
tilted
his
head
and
sang
a
little
song
right
at
him
.
