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Updated: June 15, 2025
Had you passed close to the group you might have heard: "A man, d'yo say, Mr. Maddox? A h'ape, I call him"; or: "A dog? more like an 'og, I tell yo'." Round the old orator were Jonas, 'Enry, and oor Job, Jem Burton, Rob Saunderson, Tupper, Jim Mason, Hoppin, and others; while on the outskirts stood Sam'l Todd prophesying rain and M'Adam's victory.
The postman whistled, long and low. "It's just what owd Wrottesley'd tell on," he said. "I never nob'but half believed him then I do now though. D'yo' mind what th' owd lad'd tell, Master?" James Moore nodded. "Thot's it. I've never seen the like afore myself, but I've heard ma grandad speak o't mony's the time.
"I see them mysell weel eneugh," said Mucklebackit; "they are sitting down yonder like hoodie-craws in a mist; but d'yo think ye'll help them wi' skirling that gate like an auld skart before a flaw o' weather? Steenie, lad, bring up the mast Od, I'se hae them up as we used to bouse up the kegs o' gin and brandy lang syne Get up the pickaxe, make a step for the mast make the chair fast with the rattlin haul taught and belay!"
And up to the last possible moment, even to her daughter, she was determined to ignore what had happened. But she knew and Essy knew that she knew. "Doan yo saay it, Assy. Doan yo saay it." Essy said nothing. "D'yo 'ear mae speaakin' to yo? Caann't yo aanswer? Is it thot, Assy? Is it thot?" "Yas, moother, yo knaw 'tis thot." "An' yo dare to coom 'ear and tell mae! Yo dirty 'oossy!
"No," she said. "It won't be like that. It won't, really. If my father won't let my sister marry Dr. Rowcliffe, you don't suppose he'll let me marry you? It makes it more impossible than ever. That's what I came to tell you." "It's naw use yo're tallin' mae. I won't hear it." He bent to her. "Ally d'yo knaw we're aloan here?" "Yes, Jim."
"'Tell a lee and stick to it, is my rule, and a good one, too, in honest England. I for one 'll no think ony the worse o' ye if yer memory plays yer false." "D'yo' think I care a kick what yo' think o' me?" the boy asked brutally. "Nay; there's 'nough liars in this fam'ly wi'oot me." The candle trembled and was still again. "A lickin' or a lie tak' yer choice!"
As he entered the yard, David was standing outside the kitchen window, looking very glum and miserable. On seeing his father, however, the boy started forward, all alert. "What d'yo' want here?" he cried roughly. "Same as you, dear lad," the little man giggled, advancing. "I come on a visit." "Your visits to Kenmuir are usually paid by night, so I've heard," David sneered.
An old man and his wife appeared at the door; both of them shoved back their spectacles until they rested on the tops of their heads, and scanned him searchingly. The old woman had a law-book in her hand, and the old man a quill pen. She had evidently been reading to him, and he copying. The old man called out to him imperiously: "Heah, stranger, who air yo'? An' what d'yo' want?"
An they do tell me, as nobory can mak owt o' 'Lias Dawson these mony years, i' th' matter o' brains. Eh, but yo shudno meddle wi Satan. 'What d'yo think he saw? asked David, eagerly, his black eyes all aglow. 'He saw t' woman wi t' fish's tail 'at's what he saw, said Louie, shrilly. Reuben took no notice. He was sunk in silent reverie poking at his pipe.
I've no time to stand gossipin' here, if yo' have," said the Master. M'Adam strained forward till he nearly toppled off the gate. "Queer thing, James Moore, you should be the only one to escape this Killer." "Yo' forget yoursel', M'Adam." "Ay, there's me," acquiesced the little man. "But you hoo d'yo' 'count for your luck?"
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