United States or Papua New Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Aw wonder how they can for shame' o' their face. A lot o' mee-mawing snickets! But they 're no better nor porritch, Robert, when they're looked up. 'Not a bit, Betty, not a bit! But I mun be off. Good neet to yo'. 'Good neet Robert, said Betty. An' away he went wi' th' cart up to th' Hollins." "Aw'll tell tho what, Skedlock," said Nanny; "that woman's a terrible tung!"
He's bin deead aboon five-an-forty year, neaw." "Well, but, Nanny," said Skedlock, laying his hand on the old woman's shoulder, "yo known what a hard job it is to keep th' bant i'th nick wi' a rook o' musicianers. They cap'n the world for bein' diversome, an' jealous, an' bad to plez. Well, as I wur sayin' they'n had a deeal o' trouble about music this year or two back, up at th' owd chapel.
They were as like one another as a new shilling and an old crown-piece. The lad's dress was of the same kind as his father's, and he seemed to have studiously acquired the same cart-horse gait, as if his limbs were as big and as stark as his father's. "Well, Skedlock," said Nanny, "thae's getten Joseph witho, I see. Does he go to schoo yet ?" "Nay; he reckons to worch i'th delph wi' me, neaw."
"Nay, sure. Does he get ony wage?" "Nawe," replied Skedlock; "he's drawn his wage wi' his teeth, so fur. But he's larnin', yo' known he's larnin'. Where's yo'r Jone? I want to see him abeawt some plants." "Well," said Nanny, "sit tho down a minute. Hasto no news? Thae'rt seldom short of a crack o' some mak." "Nay," said Skedlock, scratching his rusty pate, "aw don't know 'at aw've aught fresh."
Skedlock came shouldering slowly forward into the cottage, a tall, strong, bright-eyed man, of fifty. His long, massive features were embrowned by habitual exposure to the weather, and he wore the mud-stained fustian dress of a quarryman. He was followed by a healthy lad, about twelve years of age, a kind of pocket-copy of himself.
A mon connot olez be sober; A mon connot sing To a bonnier thing Nor a pitcher o' stingin' October." "Jenny, my lass," said the old woman, "see who it is. It's oather 'Skedlock' or 'Nathan o' Dangler's." Jenny peeped through the window, an' said, "It's Skedlock. He's lookin' at th' turmits i'th garden. Little Joseph's wi' him. They're comin' in. Joseph's new clogs on."
He mun ha' co'de at 'Th' Rompin' Kitlin'; but, I'll look in as I go by." "I wish thou would, Skedlock. An' dunnot' go an' keep him, now; send him forrud whoam." "I will, Nanny I dunnot want to stop, mysel'. Con yo lend me a lantron?" "Sure I can. Jenny, bring that lantron; an' leet it. It'll be two hours afore th' moon rises. It's a fine neet, but it's dark."
"Well, well," said Nanny, "that wur a bonny come off, shuz heaw. But how wenten they on at after?" "Well, I'll tell yo, Nanny," said Skedlock. "Th' owd clerk wur noan in when Robin geet to th' dur wi' his cart that neet, so his wife coom with a leet in her hond, an' said, 'Whatever hasto getten for us this time, Robert? 'Why, said Robin, 'it's some mak of a organ.
"Aye," said Skedlock; "but aw've noan done yet, Nanny." "What, were'n they noan gradely sorted, then, at after o'?" "Well," said Skedlock, "I'll tell yo. "As I've yerd th' tale, this new organ wur tried for th' first time at mornin' sarvice, th' next day.
"Aye, hoo has," replied Skedlock; "an' her mother wur th' same. But, let me finish my tale, Nanny, an' then " "Well, it wur pitch dark when Robin geet to th' Hollins farm-yard wi' his cart.
Word Of The Day