"Geologist she means, Charlotte."
"Of course; but Agnes spells it 'jolly-jist.'"
"Agnes ought to know better. She waited table frequently, and must have
heard the word pronounced. Go on, Charlotte."
He kept on at this feckless work till late in the afternoon, and by
that time he had filled both bags full with odd bits of stone. Joe
said he hadn't often had a harder darrack after sheep at
clipping-time than he had after that old man, carrying his leather
bags. But, however, they got back to our house, and mother gave the
stranger some bread and milk; and after he had taken it, and talked
with father about sheep-farming and such like, he paid Joe his five
shillings like a man, and told him he would give him another five
shillings if he would bring his bags full of stones down to
Skeal-Hill by nine o'clock in the morning.
"Are you sleepy Sophy?"
"Oh, dear, no! Go on."
Next morning Joe took the bags, and started for Skeal-Hill. It was
another hot morning; and he hadn't gone far till he began to think
that he was as great a fool as the jolly-jist to carry broken
stones to Skeal-Hill, when he could find plenty on any road-side
close to the place he was going to. So he shook them out of the
bags, and stepped on a gay bit lighter without them. When he got
near to Skeal-Hill he found old Abraham Atchisson sitting on a
stool, breaking stones to mend roads with; and Joe asked him if he
could fill his leather bags from his heap.
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