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"The description is sufficiently particular." "Scarcely precise enough," returned Potts. "However, it may do. We will help you in the matter, good Humphrey Etcetera. You shall not be troubled with these pestilent witches much longer. The neighbourhood shall be cleared of them." "Ey'm reet glad to hear, mester," replied the man. "You promise much, Master Potts," observed Richard.
"Nay, lads, don't spyle a nice bit o' sport by quarrelling," said Dave, sending the boat rapidly homeward. "I wean't laugh at you no more, Mester Dick. I like you for it, lad. It do seem cruel; and sometimes when I weer younger, and a bud looked up at me with its pretty eyes, as much as to say, `don't kill me! I would let it go." "Ah!" ejaculated Dick with a sigh of relief.
Mountain and forest and sky were stronger than the human stragglers they closed around and shut out from the world. "We don't see anything like that in Lancashire," said Langley. "That kind of thing is new to us, my lad, isn't it?" with a light gesture toward the mountain, in whose side the workers had burrowed. "Ay, mester," raising troubled eyes to its grandeur "iverything's new.
"Mester," said the lad to Evans, "would you moind speakin' a word fur me? I ha' had a long tramp, an' I'm fagged-loike, an'" He stopped and rose from his seat with a hurried movement. "Who's that theer as is comin'?" he demanded. "Isna it th' young mester?"
"Eh but you've grown a gradely mon, Mester Adrian!" she cried, in her long-drawn Lancastrian, dandling her bundle energetically from side to side in the excess of her admiration, and added with a laugh of tender delight: "Eh, but you're my own lad still, as how 'tis!" when, blushing, the young man crossed the room and stooped to kiss her, glancing shyly the while at the white bundle in her arms.
"I'm trying to remember who you are, my lad," he said, "but I shall be obliged to give it up. I know your face, I think, but I have no recollection of your name. I dare say I have seen you often enough. You came from Deepton, Evans tells me." "Ay, mester, fro' Deepton." "A long journey for a lad like you to take alone," with inward pity for the heavy face. "Ay, mester." "And now you want work?"
But it was not to see John Warren's nor Dave Gittan's grave that Hickathrift led the young men to the one bit of waste land left, and there pointed to a wooden tablet nailed against a willow tree. "The squire give me leave, Mester Dick, and Jacob and me buried him theer when he died.
Who says so? I don't, and the doctor had better not." "Never mind that. I want you to tell me how all this happened." "He ar'n't half a bad un, mester," said the injured man, ignoring the remark, as he held on to the boy's hand. "We're mates, that's what we are. See him stand up again me that day? It were fine." "Yes; but you must tell me how this occurred. I want to take some steps about it."
"That's what th' law says," slowly; "I thowt different mysen, an' so did th' poor lass. That's what's the matter, Mester; that's th' trouble." The other nervous hand went up to his bent face for a minute and hid it, but I did not speak. There was so much of strange grief in his simple movement that I felt words would be out of place.
She had never made a long speech in Yorkshire before and she had remembered very well. "Tha' mun talk a bit o' Yorkshire like that to Mester Colin," Dickon chuckled. "Tha'll make him laugh an' there's nowt as good for ill folk as laughin' is. Mother says she believes as half a hour's good laugh every mornin' 'ud cure a chap as was makin' ready for typhus fever."
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