Australian Tales - Setis

wheel and gazing into my blushing face. ‘Oh, nothing very particular,
mother, only I like to know all about everything in the world; and you
know you encourage me to acquire useful knowledge. — Do tell me all
about it, mother,’ said I, in a coaxing tone, and putting my arms round
her neck at the same time. I could see the loving old lady's heart was
warming at the tender recollections which my question had awakened.
She sighed, took off her spectacles, and wiped some tear marks from
them, then began to smile, and playfully chide me for my inquisitiveness.
After a little more gentle persuasion she sighed again and said, ‘Your
poor dear father was a man of few words, Davy, still for all that, he was
very acute, and a man of good taste too. He found out that I loved him,
though I am sure I had not told it to a soul in the world; nor did he say a
word to me about it either, but went straight off to my father, and said
right out in his blunt way, “Mr. Dobbs, I want your daughter Grace; I
love her awfully hard, and I am able and willing to work to keep her.
What do you say?” My father, who always liked straight-forward people,
said to him, “Come inside, Master Dovecott, and have a mug of cider; we
will talk the matter over.” So in he went, and in a very short time he got
father's consent. Then he came into the dairy where I was putting a
cheese into the vat, and asked me if I would have him for a husband. You
must be aware that I did not say nay, boy, and that's all about it. But what
in the name of fortune do you want to know that for?’ ‘Nothing very
particular, mother — I will tell you to-morrow night,” said I, kissing her
affectionately.
“I then put on my hat, and away I went across the fields to Mr.
Roseley's house, repeating my father's successful form of address all the
way I went. There sat old Mr. Roseley outside his front door smoking his
pipe. ‘Good evening, Davy, my lad?’ said he; ‘Good evening, Mr.
Roseley,’ said I. Then I felt all of a twitter inside, as though I had
swallowed a nest of young skylarks. But I soon plucked up heart, and
speaking as nearly as possible in the bluff style that my father always
spoke in, I said, ‘Mr. Roseley, I want your daughter Nanny. I love her
awfully hard, and am able and willing to work to keep her. What do you
say?’ Goodness me, sir! how the old man stared at me. His pipe went out
directly, and his nose reddened as if it were going to relight the tobacco.
He did not swear, certainly, for he was a sensible man in the main, but he
blustered like a black north-easter, and almost upset me. ‘Look ye,
Davy,’ said he, ‘I believe you are an honest lad, or else, do you see that
whip behind the door there? I'd give you that for your impudence in
coming to ask for my girl as carelessly as if you merely wanted to
borrow my wheelbarrow. “I want your daughter Nanny.” Zounds! is that
the way to ask for such a girl as mine? Besides, do you think I am such a;
fool as to let a lass of sixteen get married, unless I wanted to see her an
old worn-out woman before she is in her prime? Ugh! get out, you