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"Yes, yes," said the engineer impatiently; "but I want to know who it was made this attack upon you this cowardly attack. You say it was while you slept." "Yes, I s'pose so; but don't you trouble about that, mester. I'm big enough to fight my bit. I shall drop on to him one of these days, and when I do why, he'll find it okkard."
He faltered in his speech oddly, and even reddened a little, at the same time rubbing his hands together with a nervousness which seemed habitual to him. "Mester Ed'ard, I mean," he added "th' young mester as is here. I heerd as he liked 'Merika, an' an' I comn." The loungers glanced at each other, and their glance did not mean high appreciation of the speaker's intellectual powers.
"Won't he let you touch it, Mester Dick?" chuckled Hickathrift. "No; and he may go without," said Dick. "Come along!" They returned to the boat, Snig giving them a friendly bark or two as they got on board; and directly after, with lusty thrusts, the wheelwright sent the punt along in the direction of Dave's home.
Jos Myatt, behind, said to me: "Happen you'd better go in there, mester," pointing to a half-open door at the foot of the stairs. I went into a little room at the rear of the bar-parlour. A good fire burned in a small old-fashioned grate, but there was no other light. The inn was closed to customers, it being past eleven o'clock.
"Eh," said Mrs Clowes, turning very amiably. "It's never you, mester! It was that hot in that chapel we're all on us dying of thirst.... Four gills and a pint, please!" "And give me a pint," said Jock, desperately. They all sat down familiarly. That a mother should take her children into a public-house and give them beer, and on a Sunday of all days, and immediately after a sermon!
"Boh, if ey might choose betwixt him an yunk Mester Ruchot Assheton's grey gelding, Merlin, ey knoas which ey'd tak." "Robin, of course," said Nicholas. "Nah, squoire, it should be t'other," replied the groom. "You're no judge of a horse, Peter," rejoined Nicholas, shrugging his shoulders. "May be not," said the groom, "boh ey'm bound to speak truth. An see! Tum Lomax is bringin' out Merlin.
And while Constance was thus taking her wedding presents with due seriousness, Maggie was cleaning the steps that led from the pavement of King Street to the side-door, and the door was ajar. It was a fine June morning. Suddenly, over the sound of scouring, Constance heard a dog's low growl and then the hoarse voice of a man: "Mester in, wench?"
My lass never altered her sweet ways, an' I just loved her to make up to her fur what had gone by. I thanked God-a'-moighty fur his blessing every day, and every day I prayed to be made worthy of it. An' here's just wheer I'd like to ax a question, Mester, about sum m at 'ats worretted me a good deal.
"Nay, nay, ghosts is ghosts, and sperrits is sperrits." "Well, then, who ever heard of a spirit going out skating with a lantern, or poling about with a punt, or shooting people, or blowing up sluice-gates, or cutting beasts' legs, or setting fire to their houses? Did you?" "I nivver did till now, Mester Dick." "It's all nonsense about spirits; isn't it, Tom?" "Of course it is," was the reply.
Dick knew the man too well to continue, and in penitent tones exclaimed: "No, no, go on, Dave, we won't splash any more." "Because if there's any more of it " "I won't splash any more, Dave," cried Dick, laughing, "It was Tom." "Oh, what a shame!" "So you did splash. Didn't he, Mr Marston?" "I don't want to hear no more about it, Mester Dick. I know," growled Dave.
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