LATER

"Hasn't William Smallbury been to Casterbridge?"

"Yes, ma'am, but he's not yet come home. He promised to be back by six."

"It wants a quarter to six at present." said Bathsheba, looking at her watch. "I daresay he'll be in directly.

Well, now then" -- she looked into the book -- "Joseph Poorgrass, are you there?"

"Yes, sir -- ma'am I mane." said the person addressed.

"I be the personal name of Poorgrass."

"And what are you?"

"Nothing in my own eye. In the eye of other people -- well, I don't say it; though public thought will out."

"What do you do on the farm?"

"I do do carting things all the year, and in seed time I shoots the rooks and sparrows, and helps at pig-killing, sir."

"How much to you?"

"Please nine and ninepence and a good halfpenny where 'twas a bad one, sir -- ma'am I mane."

"Quite correct. Now here are ten shillings in addition as a small present, as I am a new comer."

Bathsheba blushed slightly at the sense of being generous in public, and Henery Fray, who had drawn up towards her chair, lifted his eyebrows and fingers to express amazement on a small scale.

"How much do I owe you -- that man in the corner -what's your name?" continued Bathsheba.