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I dreamed it 'fore 'e was born. Doan't 'e hold me back, you poor fools. Let me gaw an' bury myself in the same graave along wi' en. My Tom, my Tom! I awnly had but wan awnly wan, an' now " She wailed and wrung her hands, while rough voices filled her ears with such comfort as words could bring to her. "Rest easy, bide at peace, dear sawl."
"His mother's sent post-haste for un. I doubt he 'm to the cottage by now. Such a gude, purty gal as she was, tu! An' so mute as a twoad at the buryin', wi' never a tear to soften the graave dust. For why? She knawed she'd be alongside her man again 'fore the moon waned. An' I hope she may be. But 't was cross-roads an' a hawthorn stake in my young days.
They've found her in the brook as the waters went down. Drownded theer the awnly sunshine as ever smiled at Drift. Oh, my good God! 'tis a miz-maze to drive us all out of our senses. An' you, mother my dear, dear sawl, my heart bleeds for 'e." "I caan't cry for her my tears be dried at the roots o' my eyes. I be down-danted to the edge o' my awn graave.
'T is allus the way wi' such as you, who never hope nothing. Theer comes a matter as takes 'em out of themselves, then they get drunk with hope, all of a sudden, an' flies higher than the most sanguine folks, an' builds castles 'pon clouds. Theer's the diggin' of a graave between you and Chris yet. Doan't forget that." "You can't evade solid facts."
"'Tis enoof t' raaise yore pore feyther clane out of 'is graave!" "'E'd sooner 'ave seed yo in yore coffin, Assy." She rose and took down the tea-caddy from the chimney-piece and flung a reckless measure into the tea-pot. "Ef 'e'd 'a been a-livin', 'E'd a killed yo. Thot's what 'e'd 'a doon." As she said it she grasped the kettle and poured the boiling water into the tea-pot.
Your faither will chaange, sure as I'm a livin' man, some day. God ban't gwaine to let en gaw down to's graave wi' sich a 'mazin' number o' wrong opinions. Else think o' the wakin' t'other side! Iss, it caan't be. Why, as 'tis, if he went dead sudden, he'd gaw marchin' into heaven as bold as brass, an' bang up to the right hand o' the thrawne! Theer's a situation for a body!
Every one of her relations is savage about it." "Well they may be. Why doan't they lock her up? If she ban't mad, nobody ever was. 'Money'! Lezzard! Lying auld auld Tchut! Not money enough to pay for a graave to hide his rotten bones, I lay. Oh, 't is enough to theer, what 's the use of talkin'? Tchut Tchut!" At this point Phoebe, fearing even greater extravagances in Mr.
"Doan't you grizzle about it. The bwoy be gwaine to make auld bones yet hard as a nut he be. Give un years an' he'll help carry you to the graave in the fulness of time, I promise 'e," said Billy, in his comforting way. Mr. Blee had but reported Will correctly, and it was not until some hours later that the child at Newtake caused his parents any alarm.
Sky-color an' no less. What I'm wonderin' is as to however she comed here 'tall." "Piskey-led, I'll warrant 'e," said the ancient. "Nay, man-led, which is worse. You mind that printed envelope us found in the kitchen. 'Twas some dark doin' of that anointed vellun as brot her in trouble. Ay, an' if I could do en a graave hurt I would, Methodist or no Methodist." "He'm away," answered Bartlett.
I'm fearin' graave for the big stack; an' theer's three paarts o' last year's hay beside, an' two tidy lil mows of the aftermath. So sure's the waters do rise another foot and a half, 'tis 'good-by' to the whole boilin'. Not but 'twill be a miracle for the stream to get much higher. A penn'orth o' frost now would save a pound of produce from wan end o' Carnwall to t'other."
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