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Updated: May 12, 2025
Penrose, and whom he still so dearly loved. When Rehoboth heard of the coming marriage of Mr. Penrose many were its speculations on the woman he was taking for wife. Milly wondered 'if th' lass 'ud be pratty, and 'what colour her een 'ud be'; while old Joseph declared 'hoo'd be mighty high-minded, but that hoo were comin' to wheer hoo'd be takken daan a bit.
He lied about his money him a pauper all the time; and now he waits and watches me o' nights, when he thinks I'm drunk or dreamin' an' I ban't neither. He watches, wi' his auld, mangy poll shakin', an' the night-lamp flingin' the black shadow of un 'gainst the bed curtain an' shawin' wheer his wan front tooth sticks up like a yellow stone in a charred field. Blast un to hell!
'My niece, Em'ly, is alive, sir! he said, steadfastly. 'I doen't know wheer it comes from, or how 'tis, but I am told as she's alive! He looked almost like a man inspired, as he said it. I waited for a few moments, until he could give me his undivided attention; and then proceeded to explain the precaution, that, it had occurred to me last night, it would be wise to take.
"She comes out of this yare pit wheer t'owd man was chucked, and wanders about the wood and th' rise, a-yellin' somefin awful. It's nowt to hear her we've all heerd her for that matter but to see her is to meet a bloody and violent end within the month. That's why they call this 'ere pit 'the Shrieking Pit. I'm thinkin' that owd Mr.
"So the lad with the green eyes had carried away your house in the night and set it down on your allotment?" "Nay, 'twere nowt o' t' sort. T' house wheer I'd bin livin' were a back-to-back house, facin' north, so as we niver gat no sun thro' yeer's end to yeer's end. But t' new house stood all by itsen, wi' windeys on all sides, an' a back door oppenin' into t' gardin.
"Wheer 's his ticket to then?" "Why, it isn't Miller Lyddon's young maid, surely!" burst out the fisherman; "not Phoebe grown to woman!" A Devon accent marked the speech, suddenly dragged from him by surprise. "Ess, I be Phoebe Lyddon; but don't 'e fall 'pon each other again, for the Lard's sake," she said. "The boy 's as tetchy in temper as a broody hen.
"We couldn't tak a hafe-day off next week, I suppose, and gan wi' t' train soomwheer oot i' t' coontry, wheer I could see a two-three fields o' corn? Rheumatics is that bad I could hardlins walk far, but mebbe they'd let me sit on t' platform wheer I could watch t' lads huggin' t' sheaves or runnin' for t' mell."
Her last words on earth were, 'Dear friends, I am goin' Wheer weshin' ain't doon, nor sweepin', nor sewin', Don't weep for me now, don't weep for me niver, I'm boun' to do nowt for iver an' iver." "Ay, lass," Job replied, "that's reight enif for thee. Breedin' barns taks it out o' a woman. But it'll noan suit me so weel."
Purty as them china figures you might buy off Cheap Jack, an' just so tender. She'd come up to dinky gals no bigger 'n herself an' pull out her li'l handkercher an' ax 'em to be so kind as to blaw her nose for her! Now Will's gone, Lard knaws wheer she'll drift to." "To John Grimbal. Any man could see that. Her father's set on it."
"You 'm a tidy judge of a fule, I grant," he said angrily, "or should be. But you 'm awnly wan more against me. You'll see you 'm wrong like the rest. Anyway, you've got to mind what you've sweared. An' when mother an' Chris ax 'e wheer I be, I'll thank you to say I'm out in the world doin' braave, an' no more." "As you like. It 's idle, I know, trying to make you change your mind."
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