They
remembered a stripling on the farm, knowing far less than they did,
and often glad to shelter his ignorance of all agricultural matters
behind their superior knowledge. They would have taken orders from
Susan with far more willingness; nay, Willie himself might have
commanded them; and from the old hereditary feeling toward the owners
of land, they would have obeyed him with far greater cordiality than
they now showed to Michael. But Susan was tired with even three
rounds of knitting, and seemed not to notice, or to care, how things
went on around her; and Willie--poor Willie!--there he stood lounging
against the door-sill, enormously grown and developed, to be sure,
but with restless eyes and ever-open mouth, and every now and then
setting up a strange kind of howling cry, and then smiling vacantly
to himself at the sound he had made. As the two old labourers passed
him, they looked at each other ominously, and shook their heads.
"Willie, darling," said Susan, "don't make that noise--it makes my
head ache."
She spoke feebly, and Willie did not seem to hear; at any rate, he
continued his howl from time to time.
"Hold thy noise, wilt'a?" said Michael, roughly, as he passed near
him, and threatening him with his fist.
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