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'And if He coome, what kind o' a welcome would He ged, thinksto? I know thaa reckons to meet Him on a Sundo, and when thaa sits at "His table," as tha co's th' sacrament, and at th' deacons' meetings. But that's abaat as mich on Him as yo' want, I think. Mr. Penrose stood up to leave, but, recollecting himself, he said: 'Shall I pray with you, Mr. Fletcher?
At last a woman, whose threescore years and ten was the only warrant for her rude interruption, exclaimed: 'Wheer's th' parson? Hes he forgetten, thinksto? 'Mr. Penrose is ill i' bed, replied old Joseph, 'but I seed Mr. Hanson fra Burnt Hill Chapel, and he promised as he'd be here in his place.
'No, aw hevn't, but aw'm a deal nearer nor aw wur when he first laft me. An' doesto know, lass, aw feel misel to be gettin' so near naa that aw can welly yer him singin'. There's nobbud a step or two naa, and then we's be i' th' same raam. 'An' is th' Almeety baan to mak' me climb as mony steps as thaa's climbed afore I ged into th' same raam as He's takken little Job too, thinksto? 'Ey, lass.
Penrose, that's whod I wur comin' to. I'm noan a fancy talker like yo'. Aw never larned to be, and I'm noan paid to be. Whod I wur baan to say, if you'll nobbud let me, wur this: As Jesus Christ wur a deal more particular who He leet in than who He kept aat. That's all. 'But who did He keep out? asked Dr. Hale. 'Haa mony, thinksto, did He leet in, doctor?
But all that's o'er' and Moses burst into tears. 'Nay, lad forshure thaa'rt takken worse. Well, I never seed thee cry afore. Mun I ged thee a sooap o' summat hot, thinksto? or mun I run for th' doctor? and Mrs. Fletcher looked at her husband with a scared and troubled face. 'Why, lass, I've been cryin' all th' day and that's why I've bin so long away fro' thee I didn'd want to scare thee.
'Where hes hoo bin, missus, thinksto? 'Nay, lad, I never ax'd her. I know where hoo's getten to, and that's enugh. 'But they'll be wantin' to know up at th' chapel where hoo's bin. 'They'll happen do more good by doin' by Amanda as th' Almeety does. 'Doesto mean i' His judgments? 'Nowe! theer's summat more wonderful nor them. 'What doesto mean? 'I mean His FORGEETFULNESS.
As aw seed it, tears coom in my een. Aw thought haa it bed helped mi when I lost o' mi brass, and when Joe deed, and aw tuk it up and said, "Can ta help me naa, thinksto?" An' aw put it together, and went aat on th' moors and began to play; and fro' that hour to this aw've never wanted to sup a drop o' drink. Naa, Mr.
'Nay, Libby; yon's a natural sized waist hoo's nobbud small made, thaa sees, said the woman to whom the remark had been made. 'Well, aw'd ha' donned a bonnet on a Sunday. 'Yi; so would I. An' a married woman an' o' aw think hoo might be daycent. 'Yo're reet, lass; there is, an' no mistak'. 'Can hoo play th' pianer, thinksto? 'Can hoo dust one? 'Nowe, aw'll warnd hoo cornd.
I'd as soon pool a warp ony day as play a harp; but when th' Almeety skifts me fro' th' Brig Factory to heaven, mebbe I'll shap as weel at a bit o' music as ony on yo'. 'Wilto play thi music o'er sich as Amanda, thinksto? asked old Malachi. 'Thee mind thi business, Malachi. When th' Almeety maks me an angel, I'll do as th' angels do. But noan afore, noather for yo', nor Amanda Stott, nor Mr.
Who else should it be, thinksto? 'Nay, I knew it were noabry but thee; but one mun say summat, thaa knows. What arto doin' at th' winder? Has th' hens getten in th' garden agen? 'Nowe, not as aw con see. 'Then what arto lookin' at? 'I'm nobbud lookin' aat a bit. It's a bonny seet and o', I can tell thee. 'Thaa's sin' it mony a time afore, lad, hesn't ta? Is there aught fresh abaat it?
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