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Do as I tell thee." "Nay, I'll not do it." "Thou nivver will disappoint t' devil, Peggy." Peggy did not answer; she was too much interested in the rector's proceedings. He was actually crossing the road and joining the ladies and the preacher. "Now, then! Dost ta see that, Ezra? Whativer's coming to folk? Why-a! They're a' going on together!" "Why not? T' rector's a varry good man.
"This is my cousin, Miss Fontaine, from America, Martha." "Well, I'm sure I'm right suited at meeting her. Mother used to talk above a bit about Sibbald Hallam as crossed t' seas. She looked for him to come back again. But he nivver came." "I am his granddaughter. I am very sorry, Sister Martha, to hear of your trouble." "Why-a! Is ta a Methodist, dearie?"
It's his cousin, Bessie Fontaine. She's but a girl yet, but she's t' varry image o' her mother, just what Elizabeth Hallam was at sixteen happen only a bit slighter and more delicate-looking." "And no wonder, Whaley. To be brought up i' a place like that New Orleans. Why-a! they do say that t' winter weather there is like our haymakin' time! Poor thing!
T' devil hes angels too, princes and powers o' evil; and I shouldn't wonder if they took a deal o' pleasure in makkin good varry hard to do." "What, makes you think such a strange thing as that?" "Why-a! I could tell you what looks uncommon like it out o' my own life; but you may tak' your Bible and find it plain as t' alphabet can put it, Miss Hallam.
"Swale!" replied the squire, snapping his fingers disdainfully. "Why-a! Swale nivver told t' truth i' all his life, if he nobbut hed t' time to make up a lie. As for Bingley, I wish I hed sent him over t' seas when I hed t' chance to do it he's none fit to breathe t' air in a decent country."
"We have had it so long, father, that we have grown to it like vegetables." "Has ta no love for t' old place? Look at it. Is there a bonnier spot in t' wide world? Why-a! There's an old saying, "'When a' t' world is up aloft, God's share will be fair Hallam-Croft.
My word, if there was, Swale'd hev to keep his mouth shut." "I cannot imagine, father, what makes you trouble yourself so much about the Cravens." "Thou can't, can't ta? Then thou canst imagine gratitude for faithful service given cheerfully for three hundred years. Why-a lad, 'twas a Craven saved Alfred Hallam's life at Worcester fight." "I suppose he paid him for the service.
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