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"It's a wonderful gift, cookie," ses Charlie Epps. All of 'em thought the same, not knowing wot a fust-class liar the cook was, and he sat there and lied to 'em till he couldn't 'ardly speak, he was so 'oarse. "My grandmother was a gypsy," he ses, "and it's in the family. Things that are going to 'appen to people I know come to me in dreams, same as pore Bill's did.
"Passon Walden," he began, in shaking accents "Passon Walden, sir, I'm fair beside myself 'ow to tell ye but you're a brave man wot knows the ways o' God an' 'ow mortal 'ard they seems to us all sometimes, poor an' rich alike, an' 'ow it do 'appen that the purttiest flowers is the quickest gone, an' the brightest wimin too, for that matter, an' an' " Here his rough halting voice broke into a hoarse sob "Oh, Passon, it's a blow! it's a mortal 'ard blow! she was a dear, sweet lady an' a good one, say what they will, an' 'ow they will an' she's gone, Passon! we won't never see her no more! she's gone!"
Who knows more about it, me or you? So I says, 'I've niver fun out how much tha' knows, Alfred. It'll 'appen carry thee ter bed an' back." So Morel would go on to the amusement of his boon companions. And some of this would be true. The pit-manager was not an educated man.
"There's those two blessed lambs in the kitchen, doing wot I'd ought to be doing; and I know Mrs. Archdale 'ud come up an' run things 'ere for me. But wot 'ud 'appen if I did go, I ask you, Murty? Simply they'd take the two blessed lambs out of the kitchen an' put 'em to nursing in the wards, an' next thing you knew they'd both be down with the beastly flu' themselves.
"M'sieu' David is one fine young man, but he not know the big woods lak' ol' Jean. The ot'er man, he also not know." Jean shrugged his broad shoulders. "If all Jean's life he stay in cities, it would be so wit' him." "But Jean, have you any idea of what might have happened to Tom?" entreated Mrs. Gray. Again Jean shrugged. "Many t'ings might 'appen.
"It seems to me it don't need much civility for that," ses Joe, pulling a long face. "When you've got the ha'pennies," ses Mrs. Prince, "bring 'em to me and I'll tell you wot to do with 'em. Don't lose no time, because I can see that something worse is going to 'appen if it ain't prevented."
Four figures were depicted thereon in gay colours a king, a priest, a soldier, and a John Bull farmer. Around them ran this legend "Do you 'appen to know, sir," she asked, coming back, "if there's a young woman employed 'ere?" "There is," answered the artist. "I happen to know, because she won't let me paint her, although I offered ten dollars." "That's a good sign," said Tilda.
'I don't understand you, sir; and I beg that you'll leave me. 'Now, didn't I tell ye about leavin' ye, Maud? 'tis the only thing I can't compass for yer sake. I'm jest a child in yere hands, I am, ye know. Well, don't be vexed, Maud; 'twas all along o' you; ye know, I wor a bit jealous, 'appen; but anyhow I can do it; and look at me here, jest a child, I say, in yer hands.
'I'll do what a wise lad may, Miss; but ye don't know they lads; they bain't that easy come over; and I won't get knocked on the head, nor sent to gaol 'appen, for no good to thee nor me.
"And snug. . . . Can yer risk striking a match? Fact is, we got a lady friend 'ere, an' she wants yer 'elp badly." Sam struck a sulphur match. "Good Lord!" he breathed, staring across the blue flame, and still as he stared his eyes grew larger and rounder. "'Er name's Lobb," explained Tilda. "I oughter a-told yer." "'Ow did it 'appen?" asked Sam in an awed voice. "Igsplosion," said the Fat Lady.
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