I told the Lunnon architec' so when he come down to
oversee my work.'
'What did he say?' Dan was sandpapering the schooner's port bow.
'Nothing. The Hall ain't more than one of his small jobs for
him, but 'tain't small to me, an' my name is cut and lettered,
frontin' the village street, I do hope an' pray, for time everlastin'.
You'll want the little round file for that holler in her bow. Who's
there?' Mr Springett turned stiffly in his chair.
A long pile of scaffold-planks ran down the centre of the loft.
Dan looked, and saw Hal o' the Draft's touzled head beyond
them. [See 'Hal o' the Draft' in PUCK OF POOK'S HILL.]
'Be you the builder of the Village Hall?' he asked of Mr Springett.
'I be,' was the answer. 'But if you want a job -'
Hal laughed. 'No, faith!'he said. 'Only the Hall is as good and
honest a piece of work as I've ever run a rule over. So, being born
hereabouts, and being reckoned a master among masons, and
accepted as a master mason, I made bold to pay my brotherly
respects to the builder.'
'Aa - um!' Mr Springett looked important. 'I be a bit rusty, but
I'll try ye!'
He asked Hal several curious questions, and the answers must
have pleased him, for he invited Hal to sit down.
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