"It's no gossip... he... ha, you think I'm like a little Missus, ehhhhh? Ehhhh? Me?" Him? For shame, to look at him, still struggling to choose a new fishing ground, when he bring his rod wire up, and sets fresh bait in. Finally, he throws it out again.

"We loved with'em long enough, eh? Was quiet, mostly? Little bit of trouble, here and there, but that's just life and loving, heh? Ha... hahahhhaaa..."

Another moment, so the elderly man can enjoy his own joke. "Now all of a sudden... they're cursing us? Well? Well, if better man say so! They're so high and so up, heh? Must be they... they've got a good view! Seeing all I'm not! Used to be one of them ladies brought me goat milk every... every day! Best milk I've ever had! Best goat, too! You think... you? A bad witch would have a mean old goat, wouldn't she?"

The smile, far too pleasant, seems almost rehearsed. A man who is trying not to criticise, but perhaps failing.