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Updated: June 17, 2025
We's be reet enough to-morn, lass. Mon, there's awlus some way shap't. That tay's done me a deeol o' good. . . . Go thi ways whoam, Ann; neaw do; or else aw shan't be yezzy abeawt tho!" But Ann, who was wiping her eyes with her apron, replied, "Naw, naw; aw will not go yet, Sarah!" . . . And then she began to cry, "Eh, lasses; aw dunnot like to see yo o' this shap aw dunnot for sure!
Morell used to say as he could awlus see her deead husband's face i' hers until th' child wur born, and then it left her, and hoo carried th' face o' th' little un hoo brought up. But it'll be a deead face hoo'll carry in her een naa, I'll be bun for't. 'How was it his mother sent him to work in the pit? such a dangerous calling, and the boy so young. 'You'll know a bit more, Mr.
'Tis better that we make up our minds to be open wi' one another. 'Thou'rt awlus right. 'Tis bolder and better. I ha been thinkin then, Rachael, that as 'tis but a day or two that remains, 'twere better for thee, my dear, not t' be seen wi' me. 'T might bring thee into trouble, fur no good. ''Tis not for that, Stephen, that I mind. But thou know'st our old agreement. 'Tis for that.
Penrose, when we want to feel aar Joe near us, I just taks up th' flute and plays, and he awlus comes. Old Enoch paused, for his voice was thick, and with his handkerchief he wiped away the moisture from his eyes. In another minute he continued: 'Bud, Mr. Penrose, I'd a wurr trouble than oather o' those I've towd yo' on. A twothree year sin' I wor a reprobate.
'Nowe nobbud unless they're like Ab' o' th' Heights, who awlus swore a bit i' his prayers, because, as he said, swearin' wur mighty powerful. But him as swore just naa is Oliver hissel I'll lay mi Sunday hat on't.
And when he'd groon up, thaa knows, he could ha' takken care o' me. 'Yi, lass; we're awlus for patchin' th'Almeety's work; and if He leet us, we's mak' a sorry mess on it and o'. 'Well, Gronny, if I wur God Almeety I'd be agen lettin' lumps o' coile fall and crush th' life aat o' lads like aar Job. It's a queer way o' takkin 'em upstairs, as yo' co it.
Look how we live, an' wheer we live, an' in what numbers, an' by what chances, and wi' what sameness; and look how the mills is awlus a goin, and how they never works us no nigher to ony dis'ant object ceptin awlus, Death.
Arriving at the cottage, Enoch told his wife how he had given Mr. Penrose the history of his old flute, whereupon the good woman wept and said: 'Him and me, Mr. Penrose, has many a time supped sorrow, but th' owd flute has awlus sweetened aar cup, hesn't it, Enoch? 'Yi, lass, it awlus hes. That night, before Mr.
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