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Updated: June 26, 2025
'And we came in for market, continued Molly, 'and for t' buy t' new cloak as her feyther's going to give her; and, for sure, I thought we was i' luck's way when we saw t' first whaler, and niver dreaming as t' press-gang 'ud be so marred. She, too, began to cry, but her little whimper was stopped by the sound of the opening door behind her.
'Naen o' thy foun, now; man, or the red cwoats will hear thee; they hae been houlerying and poulerying every ane that past alehouse door this noight to make them drive their wagons and sick loike. Come into feyther's, or they'll do ho a mischief.
'He com'd to see feyther. Feyther asked him last night, said Sylvia, conscious that he could overhear every word that was said, and a little suspecting that he was no great favourite with her mother. 'Thy feyther's out; how com'd he i' t' dairy? persevered Bell.
I wonder, Philip, if thy feyther had done a kind deed and a right deed and a merciful deed and some one as he'd been good to, even i' t' midst of his just anger, had gone and let on about him to th' judge, as was trying to hang him, and had getten him hanged, hanged dead, so that his wife were a widow, and his child fatherless for ivermore, I wonder if thy veins would run milk and water, so that thou could go and make friends, and speak soft wi' him as had caused thy feyther's death?
"But the lad gently freed himsel' frae her loving airms, sayin', 'It is my duty. An' then he turned to the men an' commanded them to bring him his feyther's sword an' shield, an' he askit his mither to gie him her blessin'. "Then the leddy cried, 'God bless thee, my son. Gae forth, Lord Malcolm o' Glendown, an' avenge the death o' thy feyther an' thy brither.
But Philip niver let on to any one, as I iver heared on, that he'd seen Charley that morning as t' press-gang took him. Yo' know about feyther's death, and how friendless mother and me was left? and so I married him; for he were a good friend to us then, and I were dazed like wi' sorrow, and could see naught else to do for mother. He were allays very tender and good to her, for sure.
He had finished his breakfast now, and rose as he was speaking. "What art goin' to do?" asked Lisbeth. "Set about thy feyther's coffin?" "No, mother," said Adam; "we're going to take the wood to the village and have it made there." "Nay, my lad, nay," Lisbeth burst out in an eager, wailing tone; "thee wotna let nobody make thy feyther's coffin but thysen? Who'd make it so well?
'He com'd to see feyther. Feyther asked him last night, said Sylvia, conscious that he could overhear every word that was said, and a little suspecting that he was no great favourite with her mother. 'Thy feyther's out; how com'd he i' t' dairy? persevered Bell.
"Where then who was it?" persevered Potts. The sexton seemed disinclined to answer; but at length said, "Meary Baldwyn, the miller's dowter o' Rough Lee, os protty a lass os ever yo see, mester. Hoo wur the apple o' her feyther's ee, an he hasna had a dry ee sin hoo deed. Wall-a-dey! we mun aw go, owd an young owd an young an protty Meary Baldwyn went young enough.
Who'd ha' thought, neebors, as that young limb as plagued our very lives out 'ud ha' bin here today, a general, an' a great man, an' a credit to his town an' country? Us all thought as he'd bring his poor feyther's gray hairs in sorrow to the grave. An' when I heerd as he'd bin shipped off to the Injies well, thinks I, that bin the last we'll hear o' Bob Clive.
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