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Updated: June 4, 2025
Ey ha' important information to gie ye. What win yo say when ey tell yo that Jem Device, Elizabeth Device, an' her dowter Jennet are here aw breedin mischief agen yo, Ruchot Assheton, and Alizon?" "The devil!" ejaculated Nicholas. "Eigh, yo'n find it the devil, ey con promise ye, onless their plans be frustrated," said Nance. "That can be easily done," replied Nicholas.
Roxy followed this sally with another discharge of carefree laughter. "You's jealous, Roxy, dat's what's de matter wid you, you hussy yah yah yah! Dat's de time I got you!" "Oh, yes, you got me, hain't you. 'Clah to goodness if dat conceit o' yo'n strikes in, Jasper, it gwine to kill you sho'. If you b'longed to me, I'd sell you down de river 'fo' you git too fur gone.
Ah, Giles Mercer," he added, stopping again, "and Jeff Rushton well met, lads! what, are you come to the wake? I shall be at John Lawe's in the evening, and we'll have a glass together John brews sack rarely, and spareth not the eggs." "Boh yo'n be at th' dawncing at th' Abbey, squoire," said one of the farmers.
"Neigh, let's ha' a look at ye fust, wench," cried Elizabeth, staying her; "fine fitthers may fine brids ey warrant me now yo'n getten these May gewgaws on, yo fancy yourself a queen in arnest." "A queen of a day, mother; a queen of a little village festival; nothing more," replied Alizon. "Oh, if I were a queen in right earnest, or even a great lady "
"And yo'n win, squoire," replied the cock-master; "ey ha' been feedin' him these five weeks, so he'll be i' rare condition then, and winna fail yo. Yo may lay what yo loike upon him," he added, with a sly wink at Fogg. "You may win the thirty pounds you want," observed the latter, in a low tone to the squire. "Or, mayhap, lose it," replied Nicholas.
"Lester Terabon; I'm a newspaper writer; I live in New York; I came down the Mississippi looking for things to tell about in the newspapers. You see, lots of people hardly know there's a Mississippi River, and it's the most interesting place I ever heard of." "Terabon? I expect you all's the feller Whiskey Williams was tellin' about; yo'n a feller name of Carline was up by No. 8.
As she raised her wrinkled face, crowned with white hair and covered with a coloured kerchief, a gray shawl wrapped round her lean and stooping shoulders, she smiled a welcome, and bade him be seated. 'So yo'n put away owd Chris, she said, as soon as Mr. Penrose had taken his seat by her side.
And Nicholas recoiled, appalled by her fearful gestures. "You carry your malignity too far, old woman," said Richard severely. "And thou darest tell me so," cried the hag. "Set me before him, Nance, that I may curse him," she added, raising her palsied arm. "Nah, nah yo'n cursed ower much already, grandmother," cried Nan Redferne, endeavouring to drag her away. But the old woman resisted.
Jennet readily complied, for her curiosity was aroused, and she shared in the family feelings of dislike to Mother Chattox and her descendants. "Is this Nance Redferne?" she cried, keeping close to her brother, "Ey'm glad yo'n caught her at last. How dun ye find yersel, Nance?"
"Potts may set out 'o that journey, boh he winna come back again," remarked Jem, in a sombre tone. "Wait till yo'n seen your gran-mother efore ye do owt, lad," said Elizabeth. "Ay, wait," added a voice. "What's that?" demanded Jem, laving down his knife and fork. Elizabeth did not answer in words, but her significant looks were quite response enough for her son.
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