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Updated: April 30, 2025
"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.
"A penny is a great deal bigger than a sovereign, but yo' all know which to tak' when yo' have your choice." "I'm nobbut a little un, but bless God, I'm big enough for th' Holy Ghost to dwell in." "I doan't tak' up much room in th' world, but I'm as happy as if I were as big as Berry Braa Church." "I'm a little un mysen, but my Father is greater than all."
Prockter looked at him. "Men are trying creatures!" she said. "So it seems you can't tell a tarradiddle for me?" And she sighed. "I don't know as I object to that. What I object to is contradicting mysen." "Why did you bring Helen?" Mrs. Prockter demanded. "I didna'. She come hersen." They exchanged glances. "And now she and Emanuel have run off."
"Don't be a fool," said Bingley, angrily; "when did ta iver know any body about at this time o' night, save and it might be at Hallam or Crossley feasts?" "But where was ta a' day, Bingley? Is ta sure nobody saw thee? And when did ta come into my cellar?" "I'll tell thee, if ta is bad off to know. I got into Hallam at three o'clock this morning, and I hid mysen in Clough's shut-up mill a' day.
"Why, yo doan't main that you chucked 'er?" "She wur too goody-goody for me," replied Tom. "I am noan baan to be a saint, I am going to enjoy mysen." "Weel, tha' won't be a saint if tha' has much to do with Polly Powell. She's noan a saint," and the lad laughed meaningly. "Still her feyther's got a bit of brass.
Happen it's th' bigness, an' quiet, an' th' lonely look, an' happen it's summat wrong in mysen'. I've lived in th' cool an' smoke an/ crowd an' work so long as it troubles me in a manner to to ha' to look so high." "Does it?" said Langley, a few faint lines showing themselves on his forehead. "That's a queer fancy.
I've been in trainin' for this meetin'. I've had to endure storms, rain, tempest, and dangers seen and unseen, for it wor that dark on th' road I could hardly see mysen, so, loike a returned missionary, I think I ought to let yo' knaw some'at abaat my trials." I thowt as I wor comin' I would mak' it as easy as I could for mysen, so I borrowed aar neighbour's mule.
You never saw him, an' an' you never seed 'Liza Roantree never seed 'Liza Roantree.... Happen it was as much 'Liza as th' preacher and her father, but anyways they all meaned it, an' I was fair shamed o' mysen, an' so I become what they call a changed character. And when I think on, it's hard to believe as yon chap going to prayer-meetin's, chapel, and class-meetin's were me.
"D' ye want ony han's?" continued Tam, addressing Moriarty. "I think we do," replied the young fellow, moving toward the barracks. "The boss was saying there was a few burrs that would have to be looked after at once. Call again in the evening, and see him." "Yon wad fit mysen like auld breeks," persisted Tam; "bit A'm takkin' thocht o' Andraw here.
"It was an accident," I cried, eagerly. "Hear that, master," cried Ike; "and that's a fact; so here's my hand, and here's my heart. Why, I'd be ashamed o' mysen to hurt a bit of a boy like you. It war an accident, lad, and that's honest. So now what's it to be shake hands or leave it alone?" "Shake hands," I said, lifting mine with difficulty.
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