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Updated: June 14, 2025
'Simon, says he, as I lifted of 'im in my arms, 'Simon, says 'e, quiet like, 'I be done for at last, lad this poor old feyther o' yourn'll never go a-climbin' up these stairs no more, says 'e 'never no more." After this Simon fell silent, and I likewise, until we reached the village. Before "The Bull" was a group who talked with hushed voices and grave faces; even Old Amos grinned no more.
G. That's your business. Bring her, and there will be your money. Th. Dun yo think, sir, o' the gouden suverings i' th' Bank ov England would put a sharper edge on mo oud eighes when they look for mo lass? Eh, mon! Yo dunnot know the heart ov a feyther ov the feyther ov a lass-barn, sir. Han yo kilt and buried her, and nea be yo sorry for't?
I was glad to find that none of them were among the killed and wounded round the mill." "No, sir, except that John Stukeley has not been about since. The smithy was not opened the next morning and the chapel was closed yesterday. They say as he has been taken suddenly ill, but feyther thinks that perhaps he was wounded.
You was allus her favoryite, ye know, miss our Sally was wet-nurse to Miss Maddyline, but Madam had you hersel'. Well, miss, I'd brought you well lapped up i' my shawl an' William Shearman that was Thomas Shearman's son, feyther to William an' Tom as lives over yonder at Pulwick village well, William was standin' in 's great sea-boots ready to carry her through th' surf into the boat; an' Mester Adrian Sir Adrian, I mean stood it might be here, miss, an' there was Renny, an' yon were th' t'other gentry.
"But the lad gently freed himsel' frae her loving airms, sayin', 'It is my duty. An' then he turned to the men an' commanded them to bring him his feyther's sword an' shield, an' he askit his mither to gie him her blessin'. "Then the leddy cried, 'God bless thee, my son. Gae forth, Lord Malcolm o' Glendown, an' avenge the death o' thy feyther an' thy brither.
"Hi! Feyther! Mr. Saunderson! all o' you! T'tykes fightin' mad! Hark!" There was no time for that. Each man seized his stick and rushed for the door; and M'Adam led them all. A rare thing it was for M'Adam and Red Wull to be apart. So rare, that others besides the men in that little tap-room noticed it. Saunderson's old Shep walked quietly to the back door of the house and looked out.
Two of the men sat here talking with feyther till past eleven o'clock, but they thought that I was in bed, as I had said goodnight and had gone into my room an hour before, and I did not see any one about in the village as I came back over the moor behind." "None of the hands belonging to the village are missing, I hope, Mary.
"Of course, t' Gibbs were always a cut above us," she owned frankly. "My feyther was a foundry hand till he died, and wasn't too steady neither; and when 'e died my mother took in washing. There was a trick young Roger once played 'er about a washing-basket ... what was it now?" She paused to meditate. "Nay, I can't think on this minute ... but she allus said as 'e wur nowt but a bowdekite!"
'How many miles away is t' Greenland seas? I mean, how long do they take to reach? 'I don't know; ten days or a fortnight, or more, maybe. I'll ask. 'Oh! feyther 'll tell me all about it. He's been there many a time. 'I say, Sylvie! My aunt said I were to give you lessons this winter i' writing and ciphering. I can begin to come up now, two evenings, maybe, a week.
He's a clever workman, an' taught thee thy trade, remember, an's niver gen me a blow nor so much as an ill word no, not even in 's drink. Thee wouldstna ha' 'm go to the workhus thy own feyther an' him as was a fine-growed man an' handy at everythin' amost as thee art thysen, five-an'-twenty 'ear ago, when thee wast a baby at the breast."
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