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Updated: June 20, 2025
She dipity sher'ff, an' we'n we com' on dem hoss', Sam she git to fink 'bout he's wife an' kids. He don' fink 'bout dem mooch only w'en he git dronk, or git scairt. Den he lov' 'em lak' hell, an' he grab de beeg belly-ache, so dey don' got for feel sorry 'bout heem gittin' keel."
We'n had their tale, and he pointed away to some imaginary accusers. 'But yo mun trust an Englishman's sense o' fair play. Say your say. We 'st gie yo a varra patient hearin. And with chin thrown up, and his half-blurred eyes blinking under their white lashes, 'Lias waited with a bland imperativeness for the answer. 'Eh? said 'Lias at last, frowning and hollowing his hand to his ear.
Beside, fro wake lads, sick as yon, at's bin train't to nought but leet wark, an' a warm place to wortch in, what con yo expect? We'n had a deeal o' bother wi 'em abeawt bein' paid for weet days, when they couldn't wortch. They wur not paid for weet days at th' furst; an' they geet it into their yeds at Shorrock were to blame.
So John Barton thought he'd try another hint or two. "Working folk won't be ground to the dust much longer. We'n a' had as much to bear as human nature can bear. So, if th' masters can't do us no good, and they say they can't, we mun try higher folk." Still Jem was not curious.
'We'n you're back's at the wall, you do the best you can, don't you? began the clerk. 'I s'y that, because I 'appen to know there's a prejudice against it; it's considered vulgar, awf'ly vulgar. He unrolled the handkerchief and showed a four-ounce jar. 'This 'ere's vitriol, this is, said he. The captain stared upon him with a whitening face. 'This is the stuff! he pursued, holding it up.
If we'n been rich foak theer might ha' been some help fur her, at least; th' law might ha' been browt to mak' him leave her be, but bein' poor workin' foak theer wur on'y one thing: th' wife mun go wi' th' husband, an' theer th' husband stood a scoundrel, cursin', wi' his black heart on his tongue.
Here the brute suddenly stopped and whined, and commenced to wildly caper. 'Th' dog's goin' mad, said Amos. 'It's noan as mad as thee, owd lad, replied Moses. 'I'll lay ought we'n noan so far fro' th' chilt. 'It is always wise to stop when a dog stops, assented the minister. 'Yi; yo' connot stand agen instink, said Malachi.
"If squire says it, then 't must be," said Dickon slowly, nodding his head. "We'n better be goin' home, sir." "But you had something to tell Sir Willoughby?" "Ay, sure, but he knows it knows it better'n me." "Come, Dickon, what is this mystery! I am in a maze; what is it, man?" "Binna fur a aged, poor feller like me to say. We'n better go home, sir."
"Ay," replied the young man, "Aw have bin, but we'n bin rain't off this afternoon." "Is there nobody in?" said my friend. "Naw, my wife's gone eawt; hoo'll not be mony minutes. Hoo's here neaw." A clean little pale woman came up, with a child in her arms, and we went in. They had not much furniture in the small kitchen, which was the only place we saw, but everything was sweet and orderly.
Men make me sick; w'en they're boys they're that troublesome they ought to be kep' under a tub, and we'n they get older they're that cantankerous and self-important they all want killin' off." "I'll bet Mrs Rooney won't be workin' for a different man to him. If her convictions led her that way, you'd see he'd have a flute about her not bein' fit to be out of her home," said grandma astutely.
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