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grogram and flannel； as should ha’ been gi’en by good rights to
them as had the sense to keep away from such foolery。 Ye might
spare me a bit o’ this grogram to make clothes for the lad—ye war
ne’er ill…natured； Bess； I ne’er said that on ye。”
“Ye may take it all； for what I care；” said Bess the maiden； with
a pettish movement； beginning to wipe away her tears and recover
herself。
“Well； I could do wi’t； if so be ye want to get rid on ’t；” said the
disinterested cousin； walking quickly away with the bundle； lest
Chad’s Bess should change her mind。
But that bonny…cheeked lass was blessed with an elasticity of
spirits that secured her from any rankling grief； and by the time
the grand climax of the donkey…race came on； her disappointment
was entirely lost in the delightful excitement of attempting to
stimulate the last donkey by hisses； while the boys applied the
argument of sticks。 But the strength of the donkey mind lies in
adopting a course inversely as the arguments urged； which； well
considered； requires as great a mental force as the direct
sequence； and the present donkey proved the first…rate order of
his intelligence by coming to a dead standstill just when the blows
were thickest。 Great was the shouting of the crowd； radiant the
grinning of Bill Downes the stone…sawyer and the fortunate rider
of this superior beast； which stood calm and stiff…legged in the
midst of its triumph。
Arthur himself had provided the prizes for the men； and Bill
was made happy with a splendid pocket…knife； supplied with
blades and gimlets enough to make a man at home on a desert
island。 He had hardly returned from the marquee with the prize in
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his hand； when it began to be understood that Wiry Ben proposed
to amuse the company； before the gentry went to dinner； with an
impromptu and gratuitous performance—namely； a hornpipe； the
main idea of which was doubtless borrowed； but this was to be
developed by the dancer in so peculiar and complex a manner that
no one could deny him the praise of originality。 Wiry Ben’s pride
in his dancing—an accomplishment productive of great effect at
the yearly Wake—had needed only slightly elevating by an extra
quantity of good ale to convince him that the gentry would be very
much struck with his performance of his hornpipe； and he had
been decidedly encouraged in this idea by Joshua Rann； who
observed that it was nothing but right to do something to please
the young squire； in return for what he had done for them。 You
will be the less surprised at this opinion in so grave a personage
when you learn that Ben had requested Mr。 Rann to accompany
him on the fiddle； and Joshua felt quite sure that though there
might not be much in the dancing； the music would make up for it。
Adam Bede； who was present in one of the large marquees； where
the plan was being discussed； told Ben he had better not make a
fool of himself—a remark which at once fixed Ben’s
determination： he was not going to let anything alone because
Adam Bede turned up his nose at it。
“What’s this； what’s this？” said old Mr。 Donnithorne。 “Is it
something you’ve arranged； Arthur？ Here’s the clerk coming with
his fiddle； and a smart fellow with a nosegay in his button…hole。”
“No；” said Arthur； “I know nothing about it。 By Jove； he’s going
to dance！ It’s one of the carpenters—I forget his name at this
moment。”
“It’s Ben Cranage—Wiry Ben； they call him；” said Mr。 Irwine；
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“rather a loose fish； I think。 Anne； my dear； I see that fiddle…
scraping is too much for you： you’re getting tired。 Let me take you
in now； that you may rest till dinner。”
Miss Anne rose assentingly； and the good brother took her
away； while Joshua’s preliminary scrapings burst into the “White
Cockade；” from which he intended to pass to a variety of tunes； by
a series of transitions which his good ear really taught him to
execute with some skill。 It would have been an exasperating fact to
him； if he had known it； that the general attention was too
thoroughly absorbed by Ben’s dancing for any one to give much
heed to the music。
Have you ever seen a real English rustic perform a solo dance？
Perhaps you have only seen a ballet rustic； smiling like a merry
countryman in crockery； with graceful turns of the haunch and
insinuating movements of the head。 That is as much like the real
thing as the “Bird Waltz” is like the song of birds。 Wiry Ben never
smiled： he looked as serious as a dancing monkey—as serious as if
he had been an experimental philosopher ascertaining in his own
person the amount of shaking and the varieties of angularity that
could be given to the human limbs。
To make amends for the abundant laughter in the striped
marquee； Arthur clapped his hands continually and cried
“Bravo！” But Ben had one admirer whose eyes followed his
movements with a fervid gravity that equalled his own。 It was
Martin Poyser； who was seated on a bench； with Tommy between
his legs。
“What dost think o’ that？” he said to his wife。 “He goes as pat to
the music as if he was made o’ clockwork。 I used to be a pretty
good un at dancing myself when I was lighter； but I could niver ha’
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hit it just to th’ hair like that。”
“It’s little matter what his limbs are； to my thinking；” re…turned
Mrs。 Poyser。 “He’s empty enough i’ the upper story； or he’d niver
come jigging an’ stamping i’ that way； like a