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Look, Assy, my deear there's t' lil rawb, wi' t' lil slaves, so pretty an' t' flanny petticut an' t' lil vasst see. 'Tis t' lil things I maade fer 'ee afore tha was born." But Essy pushed them from her. She was weeping violently now. "Taake 'em away!" she cried. "I doan' want t' look at 'em." Mrs. Gale sat and stared at her. "Coom," she said, "tha moos'n' taake it saw 'ard, like."
"There, there, Assy, loove," she said. "Doan' tha taake on thot road. It's doon, an' it caann't be oondoon." She stood there in a heavy silence. Now and again she patted the heaving shoulder, marking time to Essy's sobs. Then she spoke. "Tha'll feel batter whan t' lil baaby cooms." Profoundly disturbed and resentful of her own emotion Mrs. Essy, staggering, rose and dried her eyes.
He med tall ye 'oo was with yo laasst Soonda oop t' feald in t' girt byre." "Naddy couldn't sae 'oo 't was. Med a been Assy. Med a been yo." "'T wasn' mae, Mr. Greatorex, an' 't was n' Assy. Look yo 'ere. I tall yo Assy's freetened o' yo." "'Oo says she's freetened?" "I saays it. She's thot freetened thot she'd wash yore sweet'eart's dirty cleathes sooner 'n marry yo." "She doesn't wash them?"
Thy gentle Magitian hath not onely given thee the shape and travell of an Asse, but also a skinne so soft and tender as it were a swallow: why dost thou not take courage and runne away to save thy selfe? Art thou afraid of the old woman more then halfe dead, whom with a stripe of thy heele thou maist easily dispatch? But whither shall I fly? What lodging shall I seek? See my Assy cogitation.
Gale, having brought in the tea-things, paused in her going to say, "'Ave yo' seen Dr. Rawcliffe, Miss Mary? Ey but 'e's lookin' baad." "Everybody," said Mary, "is looking bad this muggy weather. That reminds me, how's the baby?" "'E's woorse again, Miss. I tall Assy she'll navver rear 'im." "Has the doctor seen him to-day?" "Naw, naw, nat yat. But 'e'll look in, 'e saays, afore 'e goas."
It's no life fer yoong things oop there, long o' t' Vicar. Mind yo" Mrs. Gale lowered her voice and looked up and down the street for possible eavesdroppers "ef 'e was to 'ear on it, thot yoong Rawcliffe wouldn't be 'lowed t' putt 's nawse in at door agen. But theer there's nawbody'd be thot crool an' spittiful fer to goa an' tall 'im. Our Assy wouldn't.
Naw woonder Assy Gaale wouldn't 'ave yo, for all yo've laft her wi' t' lil baaby." "Who toald yo she wouldn't 'ave mae?" "Naybody toald mae. But I knaw. I knaw. I wouldn't 'ave yo myself ef yo aassked mae. I want naw droonkards to marry mae." Greatorex became pensive. "Yo'd bae freetened o' mae, Maaggie?" he asked. And Maggie, seeing her advantage, drove it home.
Five were genuine working-men, three of whom were fierce, ignorant cobblers from Belleville; the other two were Assy, a machinist, and Thiez, a silver-chaser, one of the few honest men in the Council. Three were not Frenchmen, although generals; namely, Dombrowski, La Cecilia, and Dacosta, besides Cluseret, who claimed American citizenship.
For a moment or so she stared idly at the square window with the blue-black night behind it. Then she looked down. She smiled faintly. One by one she took the little garments spread out in front of her. She folded them in a pile. Her face was still and dreamy. She opened the scullery door and looked in. "Good-night, Moother." "Good-night, Assy." It was striking seven as she passed the church.
But ef I goa yo'll nat find anoother woman as'll coom to yo'. There's nat woon as'll keer mooch t' work for yore laady." "Wull yo' wark for 'er, Maaggie?" he had said. And Maggie, with a sullen look and hitching her coarse apron, had replied remarkably: "Ef Assy Gaale can wash fer er I rackon I can shift to baake an' clane." "Wull yo' waait on 'er?" he had persisted.
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