THE MILLER'S WIFE 63 



no more indeed than to the ruddy sky that 

 told of the coming sun. True that, save for 

 the occasional cry of a kitten, they had ceased 

 their whimperings ; otherwise they behaved as 

 if it were the dead of night, going from corner 

 to corner of even the biggest fields, and when at 

 last they came to the mill-lane, following it with 

 a daring that wild creatures rarely display. 



The miller's wife caught sight of the polecat 

 as it leapt from the wall, and then watched the 

 spring of kitten after kitten till she was almost 

 tongue-tied with amazement. At last she 

 screamed out: *'Zekiah, Zekiah, there's a passel 

 of fitchers under the window ; they're running 

 something, I'm sure they are. Wust 'ee, jump 

 out and mob them, thee lie-abed, they'll take 

 no notice of a woman.'* Whereupon the miller 

 sprang out of bed, thrust his head through 

 the open window, and shouted : *' Ah, you bold, 

 imprent varmints, ah ! . . . you stinking old 

 night-trade. Be off wi* 'ee. Ah ! ah ! ah ! " 



Heedless of the rating, the pack made for 

 the bank of the pool and found another maze 

 awaiting them there. This discouraged the 

 kittens, as their movements showed. But their 

 mother knew that this maze was the hare's last 

 ruse, that he was squatting near ; and surely 

 she must have communicated this knowledge 



