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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Why not?" growled feyther from his big chair in the corner. Mrs. Wainwright positively gasped. "Gaffer, thou'll noan think o' sich a thing thou as couldn't so mich as walk on Tuesday! I'm sure thou needn't be puttin' thysel' out for Martin Tyrer!" "I'm goin' as how 'tis," repeated Bob gloomily; he had been very gloomy all these days.
Suddenly he was recalled to his position as the pastor of the church by the voice of old Enoch, mellow as the tones of the flute on which he so often tuned his soul in moods of sorrow and sin. How long Enoch had been talking Mr. Penrose knew not; but what he heard in the rude yet kindly vernacular of the moors was: 'Let's show mercy, lads! Noan o' us con howd up aar yeds baat it.
Col. G. You sit down. I'll be with you presently. Tho. Aw're noan likely to goo, maister. Enter MRS. C. Crosses to room door. Enter WATERFIELD. They talk. Ger. William! I don't want them. Col. G. Sit here one moment, sir. Mrs. Arthur, what can ? Col. Let him rest a bit, ma'am, if you please. He's been out for the first time. Mrs. C. At night! and in a fog! A pretty nurse you are! Poor boy! Col.
"I thowt I heerd t' soond o' t' reaper." "Sound o' t' reaper! Nay, 'twere nobbut t' tram coomin' down t' road. What makes you think o' reapers? You don't live i' t' country any longer." "Happen I were wrang, but they'll be cuttin' corn noan sae far away, I reckon." "What have you got to do wi' corn, I'd like to know? If you wanted to bide i' t' country when father deed, you sud hae said so.
And all the time he carried, unconsciously, something heavy in his hand, on the top of which the snow had settled. Presently Mary perceived it. "Sit down, please!" she pushed a chair toward him. "You must be tired out! And let me take that " She held out her hand. The old man looked down recollecting. "That's noan o' mine, miss. Catharine cried out "It's hers! It's Hester's!"
'Molly o' Long Shay were noan sich a beauty, bud aw felt as aw could aw liked to ha' kuss'd her that day, an' no mistak'. "Ey, Molly," aw said, "if aw thought thaa spok' truth, aw'd see Betty to-neet." "See her, mon," hoo said, "an' get th' job sattled." 'Well, yo' mun know, Mr.
Won't you please make us a treat today, Mary Ellen? Jam tarts or some sticky sort of cake like you see in the pastry shop window." "That's the very thing I was goin' to speak about, my dear," Mary Ellen replied, "if ye'll jist howld yer horses." "Now, as well ye know, I've worked here manny a long month, and I've had followers a-plinty, yit there's noan o' thim I like the same as Mr.
'Aw dare say; that's what mi mother did to me on th' neet I come wom'. But mi mother's noan God, is hoo? 'No; but if you had had no God, you could not have had a mother. You tell me your mother kissed you. Did you not feel God's kiss in that which your mother gave you? The girl shook her head; the pastor needed to make his message more plain. 'It's in this way, you know, continued Mr. Penrose.
"I am earning good brass," said Tom, "and if I hold on I shall make more still. Let those as wants to fight the Germans fight 'em, I'm noan going to get killed." This he said to Polly Powell one night as he sat in the private sitting-room of the Thorn and Thistle. "And quite right too, Tom," said Polly "tha'rt too good a lad to be killed by the Germans. Besides, enough'll go without thee.
I wor a bit worritted, for I thowt I saw her on t' Mardale Head path, juist afther I got hoam, from t' field abuve t' Bridge Farm, an' it wor noan weather for a stranger, miss, yo unnerstan', to be oot on t' fells, and it gettin' so black " "What young lady?" cried Mary. "Oh, come in, please."
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