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Updated: May 3, 2025
'Tedn' nothin' very straange." "I judge your angel do cry gert tears when you lets on like that, my Joan. Oh, gal, why won't 'e give ear to me, as have lived fifty an' more winters in the world than what you have? Why caan't 'e taste an' try what the Lard is? Drabbit this nonsense 'bout Nature! As if you was a fitcher, or an 'awk, or an owl!
You caan't knaw what this is to me, you doan't understan' a wummon faaced wi' a coil like this here. Joe Joe as loved 'er, I s'pose, differ'nt to what 'e did me. An' she, when his back weer turned an' an' me God help me! as never could do less than love en through all!" She was gone before he had time to answer, but he realized her mighty agony of mind and stood dumb and frightened before it.
"I knaw you've thought all wrong 'pon it when you've thought at all. An' Miller, tu. You've prevailed wi' me to go on livin' a coward's life for countless ages o' time me me creepin' on the earth wi' my tail between my legs an' knawin' I never set eyes on a man as ban't braver than myself. An' him Grimbal laughing, like the devil he is, to think on what my life must be!" "I caan't be no quicker.
You might have noticed that love-cheel by the name of Timothy 'bout the plaace? Him as be just of age to harry the ducks an' such-like." "A nice li'l bwoy, tu, an' fond of me; an' you caan't say he'm a love-cheel, knawin' nothin' 'bout him." "Love-cheel or changeling, 'tis all wan. Have'e ever thought 'twas coorious the way Blanchard comed by un?" "Certainly 'twas terrible coorious."
She 'm a dutiful, gude maiden, and I'd be sore to think my awn words won't carry their weight when the right moment comes for speaking 'em. Blanchard's business pulled down the corners of her purty mouth a bit; but young hearts caan't keep mournful for ever." Billy Blee then took his turn on the argument.
I've thrawed awver your manner o' worship an' I'm sick o' the Gosp'lers, for 'twas theer God as led me to this an' brot all my trouble 'pon me. He caan't be no God worth namin', else how should He a treated that poor limb, Michael Tregenza, same as He has. That man had sweated for his God day an' night for fifty years. An' see his reward."
I don' want him to get a spite ag'inst me, 'f I c'n help it; he looks to me like one o' them kind that kerries what they call slung-shot, 'n' hits ye on the side o' th' head with 'em so suddin y' never know what hurts ye." "Why," said the Doctor, sharply, "have you ever seen him with any such weapon about him?" "W'll, no, I caan't say that I hev," Abel answered. "On'y he looks kin' o' dangerous.
Us caan't lift it, but if I pull a plank or two out o' the pig's house an' put a harrow chain round 'em, we could get the cross on an' let a horse pull un up theer to the hill, and set un up. Then us would have done all man can." He pointed to the bosom of the adjacent hill, now glowing in great sunset light. "Starve me! but you 'm wise. Us'll set the thing up under the A'mighty's eye.
"He is; an' 't is straange your comin' just this night, for Blee's away on a matter touching Will more or less, an' doan't reckon to be home 'fore light." "What coorious-fashion job be that then?" "Caan't tell 'e the facts. I'm under a promise not to open my mouth, but theer's no gert harm.
"'T is awver an' past, awver an' past," he said to himself. "I be at the tail of all my troubles now, for theer's nought gude money an' gude sense caan't do between 'em." Nature, waking at the song of woodland birds to find herself naked, fashioned with flying fingers such a robe of young green and amber, hyacinth and pearl as only she can weave or wear.
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