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Updated: June 14, 2025
Thee't so stiff an' masterful, thee't ne'er do as thy mother wants thee. Thee wast often angered wi' thy feyther when he war alive; thee must be the better to him now he's gone. He'd ha' thought nothin' on't for Seth to ma's coffin." "Say no more, Adam, say no more," said Seth, gently, though his voice told that he spoke with some effort; "Mother's in the right.
And I goes round reg'lar jest to keep an eye on my capital coves. Lord! I vatches over 'em all like a feyther. Theer's some volks as collects books, an' some volks as collects picters an' old coins, but I collects capital coves, names and faces. The faces I keeps 'ere," and he tapped his placid forehead, "the names I keeps 'ere," and he tapped the little book.
'Thou'd ha' been t' first t' pluck him down if he'd screeched out. 'An' a'll warrant if they come about wi' a paper asking for feyther's name to make up for what Hobbs has lost by t' fire, feyther 'll be for giving him summut, said Sylvia. 'Thou knows nought about it, said Daniel. 'Hold thy tongue next time till thou's axed to speak, my wench.
'Why, feyther! cried Sylvia as he entered; while his wife stood up trembling, but not saying a word. 'A'm a'most done up, said he, sitting heavily down on the chair nearest the door. 'Poor old feyther! said Sylvia, stooping to take off his heavy clogged shoes; while Bell took the posset out of the oven.
Sylvie, my lass, a'm main and sorry a were so short wi' thee last neet; a ax thy pardon, lass, a were cross to thee, and sent thee to thy bed wi' a sore heart. Thou munnot think on it again, but forgie me, now a'm leavin' thee. 'Oh, feyther! feyther! was all Sylvia could say; and at last they had to make as though they would have used force to separate her from their prisoner.
'Ay, sez my feyther, 'an' I guess you 're Black Dan. 'Sure as you 're born! sez Black Dan, 'I've 'eered o' you before to-day, 'Andsome 'Arry, sez 'e, 'an' meant to make your acquaintance afore this, but I 've been kep' too busy till to-night, sez 'e, 'but 'ere ve are at last, 'e sez, 'an' now vot d' ye think o' that? sez 'e, an' pi'nts a pistol under my feyther's werry nose.
Now, my fine Gorgio, what do you and your fine feyther mean by cussin' Winnie Wynne? You've jist about broke her heart among ye. If you want to cuss you'd better cuss me; and she sprang up in an attitude that showed me at once that she was a skilled boxer. The male Gypsy rose and buttoned his coat over his waistcoat. I thought he was going to attack me.
"'But, gran'ther, father said we mustn't! I protested, horrified. "'But I say we shall! I was your gre't-gran'ther long before he was your feyther, and anyway I'm here and he's not so, march! Out to the barn! "He took me by the collar, and, executing a shuffling fandango of triumph, he pushed me ahead of him to the stable, where old white Peggy, the only horse left at home, looked at us amazed.
Kneeling now beside the bed she promised to do all that her adopted mother asked her, adding, "and I shall never, never leave feyther as long as he lives." The woman smiled faintly. "Many a girl ha' said that afore now, Polly, and ha' changed her moind when the roight man asked her. Don't ee make any promises that away, lass.
Go your ways on your errand for 'feyther'!" As he spoke, being of an amorous turn, he stooped from his saddle and kissed her. Audrey, since she was at that time not Audrey at all, but Joan, the smith's daughter, took the salute as stolidly as she had spoken.
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