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"Ha old am aw?"--"Fifty-two."
"Am aw married or single?"--"Married."
"Ha monny childer have aw?"--"Four."
"Nah," shoo says, turning to her husband, "isn't it true?"
"Yos, its true enuff," he sed, "aw believe there's summat in it, but aw should like to ax a question or two misen."
"Why, jump up, then, an' luk sharp an' start," shoo sed.
So he started--
"Ha old am aw?"--"Fifty-three."
"Nah then! didn't aw tell thi! does ta believe it nah?" shoo sed.
"Am aw married or single?"--"Married."
"True agean, tha sees," sed his wife.
"Ha monny childer have aw?"--"Two."
"Two! Then if my wife's four whose, is tother two?"
As sooin as shoo heeard that, an' befoor th' medium had time to spaik, shoo seized hold ov her umbrella, an'lauped off her seat towards whear th'
medium wor set, an' aw fancy if th' umbrella nop had made acquaintance wi'
his heead i'th' way shoo'd intended, 'at it wodn't ha taen long to untrance that chap. But th' cheerman saw her comin, an' managed to stop it, but it wor noa easy job to quieten her. "A'a, tha lyin gooid-for- nowt!" shoo sed, "has ta come here slanderin daycent wimmin? Aw defy awther onybody i' this world or onybody i'th' tother to say owt agean my karractur! Yor a lot o' himposters, ivery one on yo, that's what yo are!
Come on, Jim," shoo sed to her husband, as shoo seized hold ov his arm, "let us goa, its nooan a fit place for gradely fowk."
"Dooant be i' sich a hurry," he sed, "aw begin to think ther's summat in it."
"Summat in it! Has ta noa moor sense nor to believe in a lot o' lyin vagabones like thease? Let's get hooam, they're nooan fit spots for daycent fowk, an' aw hooap awst niver catch thi i' one agean! Come on!"
"Why, tha browt me, didn't ta? an' tha seemd to believe in it."
"Eea, aw believed' em soa long as aw knew what they tell'd me wor true, but as sooin as they start lyin, aw can't believe 'em then; but aw wish awd hold o' that chap's toppin, an' awd shake th' truth aght on him, or else awd rive his heead off--nasty low-lived sneak as he is! But come on hooam, an if tha waits wol aw bring thi agean, tha'll wait wol tha'rt a thaasand year old, an moor ner that."
They went aght, an in a bit quietness wor restored.
After a few moor remarks, th' cheerman sed 'at it wor too far on i'th' day for ony moor sperits to be sent for, for th' mediums had another meeting to attend that neet, soa he read aght another hymn, an' we tried to sing it to th' tune ov "Sweet spirit, hear mi prayer," but we couldn't, for Cinnamon wor too mich for us all--he wor a deal better brayer nor prayer, an' after one or two moor tries, th' cheerman sed "'at unless that gentleman (lukkin at Cinnamon) wod awther swallow a scaarin--stooan an' a pund o' sweet sooap to clear his voice, or else keep his maath shut, we should have to leave singin aght o'th' question altogether." But Cinnamon worn't to be put daan; an' he tell'd th' cheerman 'at if he didn't know what singin wor he did, an' when he wor in Horstraly (A voice--"What does ta know abaat Horstraly, tupheead, tha niver went noa farther ner Burtonheead i' all thi life"). This ryled Cim, an' he up wi' a stooil an' whew'd it slap at th'
cheerman. Aw saw ther wor likely to be a row, for whativer other sperit wor thear, aw could see plain enuff 'at th' sperit o' mischief wor i' some on 'em, soa aw crept up beside th' door an' pop'd aght, an' left 'em to settle it as they could.
Aw met Cinnamon th' next mornin, an' aw saw 'at he'd a gurt plaister ov his nooas, an' aw couldn't help thinkin what a blessin it wod ha been to some fowk if it had been stuck ovver his maath asteead.
Ther's a Mule I' th' Garden.
(This expression is one that I have often heard used in Yorks.h.i.+re to some unpleasantness being afoot.)
A Christmas Story.
Hark thi la.s.s, what a wind! it's a long time sin we had sich a storm.
Folk ought to be thankful 'at's getten a warm hearthstooan to put ther feet on, sich weather as this:--unless it alters it'll be a dree Kursmiss-day. If ony poor body has to cross this moor to neet, they'll be lost, as sure as sure con be.
It's a fearful neet reight enuff, lad, an' it maks me creep cloiser to th' range,--but it's th' sooart o' weather we mun expect at this time o'
th' year. It's a rare gooid job tha gate them peats in, for we stand i'
need ov a bit o' fire nah. Does ta mean to sit up all th' neet same as usual?
Eea, aw think ther's nowt like keep in up th' owd customs, an' we've niver missed watchin Kursmiss in sin we wor wed, an' that'll be nearly forty year sin; weant it? s.h.i.+ft that canel, sithee' ha it sweals!
Does'nt to think tha'd better ligg summat to th' dooar bottom? Hark thi what a wind! Aw niver heeard th' likes; it maks th' winders fair gender agean. Soa, soa; lend me owd o' that pooaker, aw shall niver be able to taich thee ha to mend a fire aw do think. Tha should never bray it in at th' top;--use it kindly mun, tha'll find it'll thrive better; it's th' same wi' a fire as it is wi' a child--if you're allus brayin' at it you'll mak it a sad un at th' last, an' niver get nowt but black luks.
But its net mich use talkin' to thee aw con see, for tha'rt ommost asleep; aw believe if th' thack ud to be blown off tha couldn't keep thi e'en oppen after ten o'clock; but use is second natur ommost, an' aw feel rayther sleepy mysen, aw allus do when ther's a wind."
In two or three minutes they wor booath hard asleep, but they had't to sleep long, for ther coom a knock at th' door laad enuff to wakken deeaf Debra (an shoo couldn't hear thunner). Th' owd man started up an flew to oppen th' door, an' in stawped a walkin' snow-drift.
"Aw wish yo a merry Kursmiss," he said.
"Thank thi lad; come a bit nearer th' leet. If tha's browt noa better luk nor tha's browt weather, tha'd better ha stopped at hooam. Who art ta?"
"Well, its a bonny come off," said th' chap, "when my own uncle connot own me."
"Its nooan Ezra, is it?" said th' owd woman.
"That's my name, aw believe, aunt," he said.
"Waw, do come an' sit thi daan. Set that kettle on lad, and mak him a drop o' summat warm; he'll do wi' it."
It worn't long afoor th' new comer wor sat i'th' front o'th' fire, smookin' a long pipe an' weetin' his whistle ivery nah an then wi' a drop o' whiskey an' watter.
"Nah lad," said th' owd man, "what news has ta browt? Tha's generally summut new."
"Aw've nowt mich uts likely to be fresh, aw dooant think," said Ezra.
"Yo'd hear tell abaght that do o' Slinger's aw reckon?"
"Niver a word, lad; what's th' chuffin heead been doin?"
"Well, aw'd better start at th' beginnin' o' my tale, an' as it's rayther a longish en, you mun draw up to th' fire and mak up yor mind to harken a bit."
"Yo happen niver knew Molly Momooin? Shoo lived at Coldedge, an' used to keep one o' them sooart o' spots known i' thease pairts as a whist shop; yo'll know what that is? Shoo worn't a bad-like woman, considerin' her age (for shoo wor aboon fifty, an' had been a widdy for a dozen year), an iver sin her felly deed, shoo'd sell'd small drink o'th sly (they dooant think its wrang up i' them pairts), an ther wor at said it wor nooan of a bad sooart, tho shoo used to booast at ther wor niver a chap gate druffen i' her haas, tho ther'd been one or two brussen. Like monny a widdy beside, at's getten a bit o' bra.s.s together, shoo wor pestered wi' chaps at wanted to hing ther hats up, an put ther feet o' th' hearthstooan, an' call thersen th' maister o' what they'd niver helped to haddle. But shoo wornt a waik-minded en, wornt Molly:--an shoo tell'd em all at th' chap at gate her ud have to have a willin' hand as well as a warm heart, for shoo'd enuff to do to keep hersen, withaat workin' her fingers to th' booan for a lump o' lumber ith' nook.
Soa one after another they all left off botherin' her except one, an that wor Jim o' long Joan's, throo Wadsworth, an he seemed detarmined to get her to change her mind if he could. As sooin as iver shoo oppened th' shuts in a mornin', he used to laumer in an' call for a quart (that cost him three-awpence, an used to fit him varry weel woll nooin).
Well, things nother seemed to get farther nor nearer, for a long time, but one day summat happened at made a change ith' matter. It wor just abaght th' time at th' new police wor put on, an Slinger wor made into one. Nah Slinger thowt he ought to be made into a sargent, an he said "he wor determined to extinguish hissen i' sich a way woll they couldn't be off promotionin' him, an if they didn't he'd n.o.bscond." Soa th'
furst thing he did wor to goa an ligg information agen owd Molly sellin'