"I will now be much obliged to you to shew me the best road to Burusa." Giles. on him. I dare say, thou wor fain enif to git shut Brid. Eye, that wor e. Bnd thou minds I nivver gav him another misbehodden word, flaid ov a surcharge, I gits at top o't' assmidden an tells him, as plain as tongue cud speeak, to mind to gang down claas tot' Reean i' Joan Thompson's Ing, then straight endas ower Howgill, seea ower staany Bits, at boddum o' Scar claas, through Harrison Intack, an to be sure to mind to gang down first gait at hods tot' reight. Giles. It wor aw as plain as a pike staff; it's unpossable thou cud a tell'd him a gainer gait. Brid. Seea thowght I, bud, girt gauvison, i'th' roum o'gangin downt' first gait, be open'd first yait he com at. 1 prisently spies him i' ower hay claas, ont' headland, anent waw, paupin an peepan about gin he wor spyin for hares. Eye, barn, I sa him ride twice seea about claas, spaudin an staupin ower girse maast shaamfully, for thou knaws, ower grund's a bit soupy. Giles. His pride seems to ha' gitten better ov his uvver stoary. He mun be off at side, er he wadn't be insens'd. Did he fin his rooad efter aw? Brid. Nay, barn, he com back ageean, raad up to me stickle-but, an began to threap me down how I hed tell'd him aw wrang; seca, thou minds, to keep him eea good humour, for aw I'd shew'd him th' gainest gait afore, toth' best o' my wittin, I gangs agaitards wi' him, an sets him as far ast' loan heead. While I'd been flightin him 'bout t'lile leet i't' milkus, owr coddy foal, bay stag, a stott, two drapes, three stirks, an a cauf, gat out at yait, at this brazzen jackanapes bed left oppen. What hed I to do, bud gang an late 'em all owert' moor. Not bein i'good graith, I war seea swelted, at 1 sweeat like a brock, an wor as wit as I'd been shearin or loukin awt' day i'th' corn field. We louping ower dubs, laches an Bikes, I maad my sark as wit as drip, at it sil'd ageean, an as yollo as a daffodowdilly wi' car watter ; my stockins war deeted up tot' mid leg, an my shoon war parfit sops; my petticoat wer scea clarted an slatted, at it war parfitly barked wi' muck; an I scrated my shins sadly w' ling collins, ya foote war feafully plish'd; bud what greev'd me maar ner aw war, I lost my hollin busk, finely flower'd, at my husband gamma 'fore I war wel. Wi' runnin eftert' beease I war quite fash'd, I gat my fit tether'd amang some seaves, an dang some skin off my noaz, an hed liked to hev scratted taa ee' out. Giles. Thouz been sadly tossecated wi't' lile window peeper, he broute the into a peck o troubles. Brid. Eye, forsure, it wor aw alang o' him, bud thouz hear. E comin back ageen, whenid gitten anent sheep beeld, I spies alantun off two shooters. They macks up tumme in a crack, an owergat me afoar I reak'd t' aum tree. They war seea clemm'd, at they war feaful fain to pike amangst shrogs some shoups, bum ekites, an hindberries. Giles. Wor the gentlefoak Brid. Eye, be ther talk they wor, bud they war vara plainly donn'd, i' short doublets, for awt ward like shay lads. Giles. It caps yan now a days, Bridget, to ken quality fra poor foak, wi' ther short poud heeads, 'bout powther Women er not mitch better. Ower Jin com haam fra sarvice at Bolton i't' Moors, Seterday come a sennight, an her awn mother hardly kenn'd her, for aw shoe nobbud left haam last Fastness een, an shoe war pubble an grosh, an i' vara good likein; an shoe hedn't been seea bedizen'd an transmogrified, shoe wod a hed a feaful blush of her mother. Brid. Thou knaws shoe ollas favvor'd ber. Giles. Eye, forsure shoe did like, bud then shoe us'd to hev a dasent lang waist, bud now shoe's aw legs. It warn't seea when thou war a young lass, Bridget. I can tell agin't wor yusterday, sin thou hed as nice a lang waist as onny body, as slim an as smaw eye as an arran. Brid. Eye, that hed I, Giles. I naa patience wi' theer flairin way a donnin now a days; ivvery thing hings seea side on 'em. It's nowght at aw, antul believe me, bud a blinnd to hid ther sham wi'. For I defy the to find 'em out howivver girt they Dosto nut knaw, how neighbour Roberts wor for sendin their douter to plaas, vara nesht mornin (for shoed gitten her god's-penny at Otley statties), when she war gard to out we'et, an tell how shoed gitten, what t'ward now caws, nobbud a slip. er. Giles. A slip it warn't seea caud i'thy time. Foak didn't stick at cawin it by its reight naam; they wad then a geen it na lanein. Bud, now they're gitten into a hugger mugger way ov softenin it off, estead o' puttin an end to sike shamful wark. Brid. Her awn mother, barn, fann naa faat wi’ her, a mucky frow, bud thowght how aw wor reight, when shoe war parfitly at down liggin. I heeard lang sin, at shoed gitten a wooster, an how shoed been thrawn owert' bawk some Sundays back, bud if what thou says be true, shoe's in a likly way to hing theer. Giles. Wooster! wheeaz shoe gitten P Brid. Yan o' Brown's lads. A vara pratty wooster etraath, I'se parfitly gloppen'd to think how Roberts wad let sike a lousith-heft, jack-a-leggs come owert' door-stones. Parents er maar behauf to blaam ner their poor barns. Giles. Blaam! I've oft heeard Roberts gee 'em good counsel. Brid. I see thouz fain to beet him out, bud what's counsel good tull an it beeant back'd be a good example. An parents tell their barns to speak truth, to mack use o' naa foul says, to be painful honest an godly, what does aw that sinnify, an they thersels winnot stick at tellin lees, bannin an talkin bawdy, an er drukken an full ov aw mander o' rogery. It's for aw t'ward az an barns hadn't een az weel as ears. Joan an me, God be thank'd, hev not mich to Giles. Doesn'to knaw what they caw 'em? Giles. They gee 'em two names, a braas an a gallows. Brid. Gallows! Oh my poor lad! Eye, I see plainly now, whar that invention springs fray. Antul believe me, it comes fray some Tom Painer i' power, wheea hez girt say i' Parliament, an hez counsell'd main on 'em to believe it as summat vara useful, an at first geen it t'name of a brace, nobbud az a blinnd. Waa-worth that lang-heeoded winner-neb'd rascad Boany, he cares nut a haupenny piece what expence an trouble he put other foak tull, seeabetide he can gain his ends an saav hissell. Thou may lite on't, it's aw a shift of his noddle to saav raap, powther an shot. Ananters he does lick us, an naabody knaws how an arrow may glent, he'll tuck up aw ower Volunteers be ther gallowses, i' iv'ry tree he comes at, thou'll see 'em flackerin about like flay-craws. Giles. I'd leever be shot a dozen times ower, ner dee sike an outo't'way lingerin deeath. * Braces were first used by the Craven peasants soon after the commencement of the late French war. At the time the Craven Volunteers were embodied, poor Bridget was alarmed by this new, and to her, incomprehensible article of dress. C Brid. I'll tell the what, Giles, as soon as ivver he gits haam, belive, I'll nifle 'em fray him, an ayther fecal 'em er thraw 'em into't' fire, hees nivver trail his awn gallows at his back as lang as I can help it. Giles. Thou's maad sike a feaful lang perammle 'bout donnin o' them lasses an sougers, at thouz nivver tell'd me whar them shooters war gangin tull. Brid. Gangin tull! wha! they'd lost thersels at top at moor, an cudn't hit t'way back ageean. They war feaful fain, I promise the, when they clapt ther een o' me, an a wunnin naa girt way off. They esh'd way to Moor Cock Hall. They war seea sadly doon for, wi' trailin i'th' ling efter moorgam, at I cud do naa less ner mack boud to esh him intot' house, for aw it wor aw a clunter. Giles. Wad the gang in? Brid. Eye, forsure; an az they wor Outners; for naabody's door, for aw I say it, oppens gladder ner wer awn to freind foak. I maad mitch on 'em, an gav 'em reight freely sike odments as I hed i't' house, a beef collop, a rasher of bacon, beside butter an whangby. I maad ivv'ry thing, bud mysel, as nate as I weel cud, I spreead taable claath, abit boorly for sure, an happen nut seea simmit as they'd been used tull, bud then it wor dasant an cleean, an they fannd naa faut weet, bud maad as free as òwt, an squatted down tul't feeaful cheerfully at lang-settle, 'bout whishins. Giles. Eye, eye, as t'sayin is, hunger's best saace. Brid. Bud thouz hear. While I wor fryin collops, yan on 'em glents his ee up at breead fleeak, an says tumme, I find you are leather dressers as well ás farmers. Giles. I think i' my heart, (low be it spokken) at gentlefoak, for maist what, ken less ner onny body. Brid. Whisht, Whisht, Giles! leeast said soonest mended. |