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Updated: June 9, 2025
Bounderby, pushing away his plate, and leaning back. 'Fire away! 'I ha' coom, Stephen began, raising his eyes from the floor, after a moment's consideration, 'to ask yo yor advice. I need 't overmuch. I were married on Eas'r Monday nineteen year sin, long and dree. She were a young lass pretty enow wi' good accounts of herseln. Well! She went bad soon. Not along of me.
In order that the oil may fetch a good price, and the voyage be speedy, the captain is commended to God, and "That hee may please to take the Conduct of you, we pray you look carefully that hee bee worshipped dayly in yor shippe, his Sabbaths Sanctifiede, and all sinne and prophainesse let bee Surpressed."
The old cowman sat hunched over the fire, smoking his pipe for a time in beatific silence. But presently Laura, as she went to and fro, caught snatches of conversation. "Did tha go ta Laysgill last Sunday?" said Mrs. Mason abruptly. Daffady removed his pipe. "Aye, a went, an a preeched. It wor a varra stirrin meetin. Sum o' yor paid preests sud ha' bin theer. A gien it 'em strang.
Penrose, but when I set mi feet on th' floor, I couldn't ston'. "I've lost my legs, missis," I cried. "Nay, lad, thank God, thaa's getten thi legs yet; it's thi brass thaa's lost!" I shall never forgeet those days. Then came th' sale, and th' flittin', an' all th' black looks. Yo' know yor friends when th' brass goes, Mr. Penrose. Poverty's a rare hond for pikin' aat hypocrites.
And what do you do with yor book-larnin' and town manners but start right out to git away the gal that I'd picked out, when I'd picked her out kase I thought, not bein' Flat Crick born herself, she might help a feller to do better! Now I won't let nobody cut me out without givin' 'em the best thrashin' it's in these 'ere arms to give." "But I haven't tried to cut you out." "You can't fool me."
Hale with eyes too dry for tears, he said: 'Aw connot see her, doctor; aw connot see her. Yo' an' th' women mun do yor best; and don't forget to ax the Almighty to help yo'. And so saying, Matt went out in despair into the wild November day. As he rushed into the raw air the wind dashed the rain in his face as though to beat him back within his cottage home.
'Howd yor noise! said David, peremptorily. 'If yo wanted to keep out o' their way, yo could do't fasst enough. 'How! they inquired, with equal curtness. 'Yo needn't meet in th' town at aw. Theer's plenty o' places up on t' moor, and he waved his hand towards the hills behind him, lying clear in the autumn moonlight. Theer's th' owd smithy who'd find yo there?
And, raising his hand to his hat, the old man took it off and swept it round with a courtly deliberation. Then replacing it, he sat with his face raised, as though to one standing near, his whole attitude full of a careful and pompous dignity. 'Now then, yor Majesty, said 'Lias grimly, I'st ha to put that question to yo, yance moor, yo wor noan so well pleased wi this mornin.
Yor Majesty! And 'Lias laid his head on one side and listened. In a few seconds a cunning smile stole over his lips. 'Wal, Davy, yo're in luck. He's noan so onwillin, we'st ha him here in a twinklin. Yo may coe him mony things, but yo conno coe him proud. Noa, as I've fund him, Charles Stuart has no soart o' pride about him. Aye, theer yo are! Sir, your Majesty's obleeged an humble servant!
But Miriam was silent, and refused to lift her face from the pattern of the plate over which she bent low. 'Dun you think yor too owd to be a gronmother? asked Matt of his parent, growing in boldness as he warmed to his confession. 'If I were thee I'd ax mysel if I were young enugh to be a faither, that I would, said the old woman. 'Well, I shall happen be one afore so long, shornd I, Miriam?
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