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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Lor'! mother, fowks don't do daft things like that any longer; they've too mich sense nowadays." "Aye, I know t' times has changed, but mebbe there'll be farms still wheer they keep to t' owd ways. Eh! it were grand to see t' farm-lads settin' off i' t' race for t' mell-sheaf. Thy gran'father has gotten t' mell mony a time.
'Twere a lang while afore he were better, an' choose what fowks said, he'd niver set foot i' t' wood agean without he'd a bit o' witchwood i' his pocket, cut frae a rowan-tree on St Helen's Day." Two Letters
There were tales told about him, that he wrote for papers in London, and stuffed his vases and his pillows with money, but TAMMAS HAGGART only shook his head at what he called "such auld fowks' yeppins," and evidently didn't believe a single word. Now TAMMAS, you must know, was our humorist. It was not without difficulty that TAMMAS had attained to this position, and he was resolved to keep it.
When t' cockleet com, t' storm had fallen a bit, an' fowks gat out o' bed to see if owt had happened 'em. Slates, and mebbe a chimley or two, had bin rived off t' roofs, but t' beasts were all reight i' t' mistals, an' then they went up on to t' moors to look for t' sheep. When they got nigh Throp's farm, they noticed there was a gert hoil in his riggin' big enough for a man to get through.
An' then there was t' mell-supper i' t' gert lathe, wi' singin' an' coontry dances, an' guisers that had blacked their faces. And efter we'd had wer suppers, we got agate o' dancin' i' t' leet o' t' harvist-moon; and reet i 't' middle o' t' dancers was t' mell-doll." "Mell-doll!" exclaimed Mary, roused to attention by the word. "Well, I'm fair capped! To think o' grown-up fowks laikin' wi' dolls.
And as the boy was never seen more, in course of time the thing died out of fowks' minds. "I'm goin' to tell ye noo about what I sid wi' my own een. "I was not there six months, and it was winter time, when the ald lady took her last sickness.
Well, I set no count on his fleering at fowks that hadn't been brought up in his dale, for I was wanting to know what he meant. "'What thou's gotten to do, he said, 'is to tak the peat-rake afore thou goes to bed and rake the ashes out o' the fire and spread 'em all ower the hearthstone.
"You don't take it round to the houses." "Nay, I don't tak it round to t' houses, but I reckon out aforehand who's to get it." It was evident that Lizzie had some private arrangement for the disposal of her milk, and I encouraged her to let me share her secret. "I've milked for all maks o' fowks sin' father deed," she went on, "bettermy fowks and poor widdies. Once I milked for t' King."
'Twere my father, an' then I knew that fowks had missed me up at t' farm an' were seekin' me amang t' crofts. Wi' that I gat up an' ran same as if I'd bin a rabbit; an' theer were my father, stood on t' brig betwixt our house an' t' cove, shoutin' 'Martha! as loud as iver he could."
I asked. "Her mon," explained Bell, "had a cousin oot in Ameriky as fowks allays said wes gey rich. But he niver so much as sent a word to Donal' for years, till juist aboot a week afore the puir mon met wi' his accident, ye ken.
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