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Updated: May 27, 2025
"Nay, you never hear news o' them as has gone before, Master Ellis, sir. If I were you, I'd have the pond dragged up at the farm, and watter dreened off at Jagley's mill." "No, no," cried the bailiff hastily. "There is no reason for suspecting such a thing. John Grange was not the man to go and do anything rash. There, I thought I'd come and have a few words with you, Hannah, and you too, Tummus.
Old Tummus was riding in the doctor's gig back to The Hollows after running across to the village for help; and he now repeated all he knew, with the additions of sundry remarks about these new-fangled young "harticult'ral gardeners who know'd everything but their work."
"Will ta howd thee tongue?" cried the old man. "No, I won't, Tummus. Not even with Mr Ellis here, if you stand there telling such wicked stories." "Arn't a story," cried the old man, with the twinkle of a grim smile at the corners of his lips. "Who'd ever go and fall in love with an ugly owd woman like thou?" "It couldn't be that; no, no, it couldn't be that," said the bailiff hastily.
"We didn't set up for him because we know'd he'd shut oop all right, and if he didn't nobody wouldn't come and steal our plate, 'cause the owd woman allus taks it to bed wi' her." "Tummus!" "Well, so you do; six silver teaspoons, on'y one was lost years ago, and the sugar bows, sir, she allus wrops 'em up in an owd pocky ankychy."
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