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No sooner, however, had the door closed on the clergyman than a titter went round the table. Matthew was still at a white heat. Accustomed as he was to "tum'le" his neighbors at the Red Lion, he was now profoundly agitated. It was not frequently that he brought down such rare game in his sport. "Mattha Branthet," said Reuben Thwaite, "what, man, thoo didst flyte the minister!
Rotha staggered, and must have fallen but for Matthew, who at the moment came up behind her. "I'll tell thee what it is, lass," said the old man, "thoo'rt like to be bad thysel', and varra bad, too. Go thy ways back to the fire." "Summat ails Robbie, no doubt about it," said Reuben. "Of course summat ails him," said Mattha, with an insinuating emphasis on the word.
It was the curlew. And when the night bird was gone she left a silence deeper than before. The citizens, lads and lasses, old men and dames, got into the boat. Robbie Anderson and three other young fellows took the oars. "We'll row ourselves up in a twinkling," said Liza, as Ralph and Willy pushed the keel off the shingle. "Hark ye the lass!" cried Mattha.
When the nosegay was yielded up to the lover on his knees, it was found to be about three times as big as Juliet's head. The play came to an abrupt conclusion; the spinning-wheels were pushed aside, a fiddle was brought out, and then followed a dance. "Iverything has a stopping spot but time," said Mattha Branthwaite, coming in, his hat and cloak on. The night was spent. The party must break up.
No, no; try me again just once, mammy!" "He's forever running on that, poor lad," whispered Mattha. "I reckon it's been a sair point with him sin' he put auld Martha intil t' grund." "Don't greet, mammy; don't greet." Poor Liza found the gown wanted close attention at that moment. It went near enough to her eyes. "I say it was fifty strides to the north of the bridge! Swear it?
"Weel, weel," said Mattha, "they do say as theer's no fools like auld fools. Why, the lad's ram'lin'. Canst hear? ram'lin'. Wadst hev us keck him intil the dike to die like ony dog?" "Take him away, take him away," cried 'Becca, retiring inwards, her importunity becoming every moment louder and more vehement.
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