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"I'm going," replied the hag, "but first I must have my funeral rites performed ha! ha! Bury this for me, Zachariah," she said, giving him a small clay figure. "Bury it deep, and as it moulders away, may she it represents pine and wither, till she come to the grave likewise!" "An whoam doth it represent, mother?" asked the sexton, regarding the image with curiosity. "Ey dunna knoa the feace?"
"They are both on yon boards. Jem is the man in the tree, and Elizabeth is the owd crone in the red kirtle and high-crowned hat. Yo win knoa her feaw feace when yo pluck off her mask." "The monk is gone," cried Nicholas; "I have kept my eyes steadily fixed on him, and he has melted into air. What has he to do with the Devices?"
"Is she neaw comely? ay, comelier far than fat, fubsy Sukey here or than Nancy Holt, wi' her yallo hure an frecklet feace an yet ye ca' her a witch." "Ey ca' thee one, theaw feaw little whean an the dowter an grandowter o' one an that's more," cried Nancy. "Freckles i' your own feace, ye mismannert minx."
I was very sorry for it, afterwards. Will you shake hands? 'Shake honds! cried the good-humoured Yorkshireman; 'ah! that I weel; at the same time, he bent down from the saddle, and gave Nicholas's fist a huge wrench: 'but wa'at be the matther wi' thy feace, mun? it be all brokken loike.
"Oh, he's a feaw teyke a varra feaw teyke," replied Ashbead; "wi' a feace as black as a boggart, sooty shiny hewr loike a mowdywarp, an' een loike a stanniel. Boh for running, rostling, an' throwing t' stoan, he'n no match i' this keawntry. Ey'n triet him at aw three gams, so ey con speak.
Pushing his way through the assemblage, he stood before the magistrate. "If yo want a witness agen that foul murtheress and witch, Alice Nutter, ca' me, Master Roger Nowell," he said. "Ey con tay my Bible oath that the whole feace o' this keawntry has been chaunged sin yester neet, by her hondywark. Ca' me also to speak to her former life to her intimacy wi' Mother Demdike an owd Chattox.
"Ey con tell ye what she'd do, Suky," replied little Jennet, knowingly; "she'd marry Master Richard Assheton, o' Middleton." "Jennet!" exclaimed Alizon, blushing crimson. "It's true," replied the little girl; "ye knoa ye would, Alizon, Look at her feace," she added, with a screaming laugh.
Pray that theaw may'st depart hence i' th' Lord, wi' whom are the sowls of the faithful, an Meary's, ey trust, among the number. Pray that thy eend may be like hers." "Ey conna pray, Bess," replied the miller, striking his breast. "The Lord has turned his feace fro' me." "Becose thy heart is hardened, Ruchot," she replied. "Theaw 'rt nourishin' nowt boh black an wicked thowts.
"Ne'er heed her, Nance," said Phil Rawson, putting his arm round the angry damsel's waist, and drawing her gently down. "Every one to his taste, an freckles an yellow hure are so to mine. So dunna fret about it, an spoil your protty lips wi' pouting. Better ha' freckles o' your feace than spots o' your heart, loike that ill-favort little hussy."
Boh Granny Demdike is used to deal wi' sich folk." "Oh! why was I born?" cried Alizon, bitterly. "Yo may weel ask that," responded Jennet, with a loud unfeeling laugh; "fo ey see neaw great use yo're on, wi' yer protty feace an bright een, onless it be to may one hate ye." "Is it possible you can say this to me, Jennet?" cried Alizon. "What have I done to incur your hatred?
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