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I insisted on being provided instantly with a place of refuge, and means of repose. 'Whear the divil? began the religious elder. 'The Lord bless us! The Lord forgie us! Whear the hell wold ye gang? ye marred, wearisome nowt! Ye've seen all but Hareton's bit of a cham'er. There's not another hoile to lig down in i' th' hahse!
There's a fearful deal o' oaths spilt in a grave while it's i' th' makin', I can tell yo'; and th' Almeety's name is spoken more daan i' th' hoile than it is up aboon, for all th' parson reads it so mich aat of his book. But this funeral's baan to be lat', Mr. Penrose'; and drawing a huge watch from his fob, he exclaimed: 'Another ten minutes and there's no berryin' i' th' yard this afternoon.
'But if God puts fo'k i' th' hoile, why shuldn't mi faither put me i' th' hoile? It's reet to do as God does isn't it, gronny? 'Whatever wilto ax me next, lad? cried the worn-out and perplexed old woman. 'Come, shut up th' Bible, and eat thi pasty.
'Yi, lad; He will, forsure. 'An' haa long does He keep 'em in when He gets 'em theer? Till to-morn t'neet? 'Longer lad. 'Till Kesmas? 'Yi, lad. 'Longer nor Kesmas? 'Yi, lad. But ne'er heed. Here's summat to eat. Sithee, I baked thee a pasty. 'I noan want th' pasty, gronny. I want to yer abaat th' hoile. Haa long does God keep bad fo'k in it? 'Ey, lad. I wish thaa'd hooisht!
Penrose, as aw were peepin' through th' hoile i' th' warehaase dur at Betty, aw could see that there were summat wrong wi' one o' th' warps, for hoo were reachin' and sweatin' o'er th' loom, an' th' tackler were stannin' at her side, an' a deal too near and o' for my likin', aw con tell yo'.
'That, mi lad, is th' hoile where all th' bad fo'k go. 'Who dug it? Did owd Joseph, gronny? 'Nowe, lad; owd Joseph nobbud digs hoiles for fo'k's bodies. That hoile is fer their souls. 'What's them, gronny? 'Nay, lad! A connot tell thee reet but it's summat abaat us as we carry wi' us summat, thaa knows, that never dees. 'And why do they put it in a hoile, gronny? Is it to mak' it better?
'Gronny, I don't believe i' th' hoile. 'Bless thee, my darlin' no more do I. 'I durnd think as God ud send me where yo' an' mi dad wouldn't let me go would He, gronny? 'Nowe, lad, He wouldn't, forsure.
'Thaa's more Scripture larning abaat thee nor I thought thaa had, said Amos, withdrawing his wrinkled face from the depths of a can out of which he was drinking tea. 'But it's noan knowledge 'at saves, Dan; th' devils believe and tremble. 'But I noan tremble, Amos; I geet too mich brimstone i' yon fire hoile to be flayed at what yo' say is "resarved" for them as isn't called.
'But durnd yo' think, doctor, that if we do as yo' want us we's be turnin' th' Church into a shoddy hoile? asked Elias Bradshaw. 'There are no shoddy souls, said the doctor. 'No, continued Mr. Penrose; 'it was not shoddy that Christ came to seek and save. 'Who wur it said th' gate were strait and th' road narro'? cried out an old man who was always known by the name of 'Clogs.
'Nay, lad; they put it i' th' hoile because it's noan good. 'Then it's summat like mi dad when I'm naughty, an' he says he'll put me i' th' cellar hoile. 'But he never does does he, lad? asked the grandmother anxiously. 'Nowe, gronny. He nobbud sez he will. And then, after a pause, he continued, 'But, gronny, if God sez He'll put 'em in He'll do as He sez willn't He?
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