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I feel as if I could do that better than t'other. 'What a single word can do! Making life seem all untrue, Driving joy and hope away, Leaving not one cheering ray, Blighting every flower that grew What a single word can do!" Margaret certainly made the most of this little song. As a factory worker, listening outside, observed, "She spun it reet* fine!"
'An we buried him aw reet an proper, said Reuben at last, wiping his brow, damp with this unwonted labour of brain and tongue. 'Mr. Gurney he would ha it aw done handsome; and we put him in a corner o' Kensal Green, just as close as might be to whar they'd put her after th' crowner had sat on her. Yor feyther had left word, an Mr. Gurney would ha nowt different.
"Oh, Jennet!" exclaimed the elder of the two, "is there no means of escape?" "None whatever," replied the other. "Yo mun stay here till Granny Demdike cums fo ye." "Oh! that the earth would open and snatch me from these horrors," cried Alizon. "My reason is forsaking me. Would I could kneel and pray for deliverance! But something prevents me." "Reet!" replied Jennet.
"Oh, it's a gander reet 'nough. But I thought it were a goose to begin wi'. It were the biggest o' th' clutch, an' the prattiest, an' so I called it Victoria, an' it geet to know th' name, an' to coom when I called it eh, it 'ud coom runnin' up an' croodle down aside o' me, turnin' its yead o' one side that knowin'! Eh, dear, theer never was sich a bird.
'Nay, lass; luv' noan drives folk mad. It's sin as does that. As Mr. Penrose towd 'em at Rehoboth t'other Sunday, it were luv' as saved th' world, and not wrath; and they say they are baan to bring him up at th' deacons' meeting abaat it. But he's reet. It's luv' as saves.
A's been t' queen! A'se ta'en Donkin on t' reet side, an' he'll coom in to-morrow, just permiskus, an' ax for work, like as if 't were a favour; t' oud felley were a bit cross-grained at startin', for he were workin' at farmer Crosskey's up at t' other side o' t' town, wheer they puts a strike an' a half of maut intil t' beer, when most folk put nobbut a strike, an t' made him ill to convince: but he'll coom, niver fear!
" Whaw, there's a woman i'th next street at's gettin' four tickets fro th' relief folk, reggilar, an' her husban's addlin' thirty shillin' a week o' t' time, as a sinker he is for sure. Aw 'm noan tellin' yo a wort ov a lie. Aw consider sick wark as that's noan reet an' so mony folk clemmin' as there is i' Wigan."
Aw're only a bit stonned, like. Aw'll be o' reet in a smo' bit. Aw dunnot want no doctor. Aw'm a coomin' reawnd. Ger. Neither of you shall stir to-night. Your rooms will be ready in a few minutes. Mat. Thank you, sir! I don't know what I should have done with him. Susan, you wouldn't mind going home without me? You know Miss Lacordere Ger. Miss Lacordere! What do you know of her? Mat. Oh, dear!
This is Margaret Hep.'s gander, says Joe no, I think he said, 'Miss Heptonstall's gander. Didn't thou, Joe? Joe's allus so respectful and civil-spoke, pertic'larly when it's a lady as he's a-talking about." Joe grinned and began to look jocular too. His friend's last assertion pleased him better than the wild flights of a little time before. "That's it," said Joe. "Ho, ho! Reet!"
'Wal, Davy, my lad, the old man said at last, with a sort of pompous mildness; 'I winna blame yo for 't, but yo interrupted me sadly wi yur whistlin. I ha been occupied this day wi business o' graat importance. His Majesty King Charles has been wi me since seven o'clock this mornin. And for th' fust time I ha been gettin reet to th' bottom o' things wi him. I ha been probin him, Davy probin him.
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