“ Oh, for shame, Aaron,” said his mother, taking him on her lap, however; “why, you don’t want cake again yet awhile. He’s wonderful hearty,” she went on, with a little sigh—“that he is, God knows. He’s my youngest, and we spoil him sadly, for either me or the father must allays hev him in our sight—that we must.”
She stroked Aaron’s brown head, and thought it must do Master Marner good to see such a “pictur of a child”. But Marner, on the other side of the hearth, saw the neat-featured rosy face as a mere dim round, with two dark spots in it.
“ And he’s got a voice like a bird—you wouldn’t think,” Dolly went on; “he can sing a Christmas carril as his father’s taught him; and I take it for a token as he’ll come to good, as he can learn the good tunes so quick. Come, Aaron, stan’ up and
