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I tuke some bread an' drippin' long with me. Wheer's Tom to?" "Gone to schule this half-hour. 'Tis nine o'clock an' past. Wheer you bin, I sez? 'Tain't much in your way to rise afore me of a marnin'." "Out through Mouzle to Gorse P'int to see Joe's ship pass by; an' I seen en butivul." "Thank the Lard he's gone. Now, I s'pose, theer'll be a bit peace in the house, an' you'll bide home an' work.
Doan't 'e let on 'bout it, mate, but theer'll be clever surprises at Judgment, an' the fust to be damned'll be the God o' the Hebrews Hisself for givin' o' brains to weak heads. Then the thrawn o' heaven'll stand empty empty the plaace 'tween the cherubims empty; an' they'll call 'pon me to fill it so like's not. Tarraway, I shall be named, same as the devil in the droll a purty word enough tu."
When he had last seen Tom he was lounging in a half-drunken condition outside the door of the 'Crooked Cow, cracking tipsy jokes with the passers-by. 'Where is the prayer-meetin? he inquired presently. 'In owd Simes's shed an it's late too I mun hurry. 'Why, theer'll be plenty o' room in old Simes's shed. It's a fearfu big place.
Fortified by this conviction, and determined to wait no longer, he now came to see Phoebe. Within the sheltering arms of the Pixies' Parlour he kissed her, pressed her against his wet velveteen jacket, then sat down under the rocks beside her. "You 'm comed wi' the sun, dear Will." "Ay the weather breaks. I hope theer'll be a drop more water down the river bimebye. You got my letter all right?"
For a year and more she 'm not her awn mistress; and, at the end of that time, if she doan't get better sense than to tinker arter a harum-scarum young jackanapes like you, she ban't a true Lyddon. Now be off with 'e an' doan't dare to look same way Phoebe 's walkin', no more, else theer'll be trouble for 'e."
But if you wouldn't heed my letters, I suppose you won't heed my voice." "Why the devil should I heed your letters? I told 'e wance for all, didn't I? Be I a man as changes my mind like a cheel?" "Crooked words won't help 'e, Farmer," said the stolid Bassett. "You 'm wrong, an' you knaw right well you 'm wrong, an' theer'll come a day of reckoning for 'e, sure 's we 'm in a Christian land."
Billy hobbled round the corner, thrust two fingers into his mouth, and blew a quavering whistle; whereupon two labourers, working a few hundred yards off, immediately dropped their tools and joined him. "Run you here," he cried. "P'lice be corned to taake Will Blanchard, an' us must all give the Law a hand, for theer'll be blows struck if I knaw un." "Will Blanchard! What have he done?"
Theer'll be hell to pay if it's let bide now, sure as eggs is eggs an' winter, winter. You'll rue it; you'll gnash awver it; 't will turn against 'e an' rot the root an' blight the ear an' starve the things an' break your heart. Mark me, you'm doin' a cutthroat deed an' killin' all your awn luck by leavin' it here an hour longer." But Will showed no alarm at Mr. Blee's predictions.
Theer'll never be no tears nor trouble in her eyes; she'll bring 'e a name, an' bide purty an' an' I hates the picksher now, so I do." Barron listened with considerable interest to these remarks. There was passion in Joan's voice as she concluded, and her emotion presently found relief in tears.
Theer'll be waitin' afterwards an' gude need for all the patience you've got; but wance the wife of un, allus the wife of un; that's a butivul thing to bear in mind." "'T is so; 't is everything. An' wance we'm wed, I'll never tell a lie again, an' atone for all I have told, an' do right towards everybody." "You caan't say no fairer. Be any matter I can help 'e with?" "Nothing. It's all easy.
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