Chapter 2

"Aw did want thi to have it, but it's price aw connot get ovver. Why it weighs nowt hardly. Its cost aboon five shillin an aance. Thee goa in an show it to thi mother an aw'll goa an get summat to steady mi narves."

Sammywell tried to keep his spirits up wi puttin some spirits daan, but he couldn't manage it, an it wor wi fear an tremblin at he lifted th' sneck when he went hooam. All lukt breet an cheerful an th' supper wor on th' table, an Mally's face showed noa sign o' ill temper. "Thank gooidness," he sed to hissen, "shoo hasn't been upstairs to caant th' brass yet."

"Come thi ways to thi supper, Sammywell, aw wor gettin uneasy abaat thi."

"Has Hepsabah been?" he axt.

"Eeah. An shoo's shown me her new hat, an aw must say aw didn't gie thi credit for havin sich gooid taste. Shoo's famously suited, an awm pleeased to think tha's acted as a father should act for once. Aw do believe if tha could nobbut live long enuff aw should be able to mak a daycent chap on thi at th' finish."

"Did shoo say owt abaght what it cost?"

"Nay shoo didn't, an aw nivver axt her, for aw know tha'd nooan be likely to give mich; but if aw thowt aw could get one like it for owt under five an twenty shillin awd be after one i'th mornin."

"Well, but tha connot,--for ther's nivver been but one made o' that pattern."

"Ther'd happen be one ov another pattern to suit me."

"Ther's noa moor ov onny sooart whativver; for th' chap at keeps that shop is gooin to retire from business to-neet an start a bank i'th mornin,--an noa wonder."

"Onnybody'd think to listen to thi at tha didn't thoil it. Aw know ha mich brass tha tuk wi thi an if tha's spent it all, what bi that! Tha doesn't buy thi dowter a hat ivvery wick! an its far cheaper to buy a daycent article nor to squander yor brass on a lot o' rubbish. Shoo's varry careful ov her clooas is Hepsabah, an tha'll see it'll ha lasted weel bi th' time tha gooas to buy her another."

"That's a moral sartainty. If that hat lasts her wol aw buy her another it'll last a long time."

"Say noa moor abaat it. Tha's suited us an if tha hasn't suited thisen its thi own fault. Aw thowt tha desarved a bit ov a treeat soa aw fotched thi a drop o' thi favourite, an if tha doesn't want it all thisen aw dooant mind havin a drop."

"That's all reight, Mally, an awm glad tha'rt soa thowtful, but aw connot help thinkin tha'rt a varry inconsistent woman."

"Nah then! If tha'rt gooin to start callin me names aw willn't have a drop!"

"Aw dooant want to call thi names, but facts are stubborn things. If aw happen to goa an get two-penoth into mi heead tha praiches at me for a full clockhaar abaat th' sin ov extravagance an th' blessins ov economy; but awr Hepsabah can wear a hat at's cost as mich as aw could buy a distillary for, an that's all reight."

"If tha bowt a distillery, Sammywell, nawther thee nor it wod last as long as awr Hepsabah's hat, soa things are better as they are. Hand ovver what change tha's getten i' thi pocket an then sup up an let's get off to bed, an be thankful tha's getten a dowter to buy a hat for, an a wife at advises thee allus for th' best."

"All reight, lass,--awm ready,--but aw connot for th' life o' me see what awr Hepsabah's hat has to do wi young wimmen darnin ther stockins an weshin ther shifts."

"A'a, Sammywell! Ther's a deeal o' things abaat wimmen at tha has to leearn yet."

"Aw believe there is,--but twenty two an sixpence a lesson is a trifle aboon my cut."

Old Dave to th' New Parson.

"Soa, yo're th' new parson, are yo? Well, awm fain to see yo've come; Yo'll feel a trifle strange at furst, But mak yorsen at hooam.

Aw hooap yo'll think nor war o' me, If aw tell what's in mi noddle, Remember, if we dooant agree, It's but an old man's twaddle.

But aw might happen drop a hint, 'At may start yo to thinkin; Awd help yo if aw saw mi way, An do it too, like winkin.

Awm net mich up o' parsons,-- Ther's some daycent ens aw know; They're smart enuff at praichin, But at practice they're too slow.

For dooin gooid nooan can deny Ther chonces are mooast ample; If they'd give us fewer precepts, An rayther moor example.

We need a friend to help waik sheep, Oe'r life's rough ruts an boulders;-- Ther's a big responsibility Rests on a parson's shoulders.

But oft ther labor's all in vain, Noa matter ha persistent; Becoss ther taichin an ther lives Are hardly quite consistent.

Ther's nowt can shake ther faith in God, When bad is growing worse; An nowt abate ther trust, unless It chonce to touch ther purse.

They say, "Who giveth to the poor, Lends to the Lord," but yet, They all seem varry anxious, Net to get the Lord in debt.

But wi my fooilish nooations Mayhap yo'll net agree,-- Its like enuff 'at awm mistaen,-- But it seems that way to me.

If yo hear a clivver sarmon, Yor attention it command's, If yo know at th' praicher's heart's as white As what he keeps his hands.

Ther's too mich love ov worldly ways, An too mich affectation; They work i'th' vinyard a few days, Then hint abaat vacation.

He has to have a holiday Because he's worked soa hard;-- Well, aw allus think 'at labor Is desarvin ov reward.

What matters, tho' his little flock A shepherd's care is wantin: Old Nick may have his run o'th' fold Wol he's off galavantin.

Aw dooant say 'at yo're sich a one, Yo seem a gradely sooart; But if yo' th' Gospel armour don, Yo'll find it isn't spooart.

Dooant sell yor heavenly birthright, For a mess ov worldly pottage: But spend less time i'th' squire's hall An moor i'th' poor man's cottage.

Point aght the way an walk in it, They'll follow, one bi one, An when yo've gained yor journey's end, Yo'll hear them words, "Well done."

A Christian soldier has to be, Endurin, bold an brave; Strong in his faith he'll sewerly win, As sewer as my name's Dave."

Sammywell's Eggsperiment.

"If my memory sarves me reightly, Mally, its abaght forty year sin aw tell'd thee at aw liked a boil'd egg for mi braikfast, an it seems tha's nivver forgetten it, for it seems to me at tha's nivver gein me owt else, an awm just abaat sick o'th seet on em."

"Ther's nivver onny suitin thee, Sammywell, what aw do for thi, an as to givin thi eggs to thi braikfast for forty year, tha knows it isn't true, for aw dooant think tha's had em moor nor once a month, if that. But tha needn't freeat abaat that, for at th' price eggs is nah, its just like aitin brass. Aw've gien em to thi a time or two latly becoss tha complained abaat feelin waik, an ther's nowt at's moor strength nor eggs."

"If this is a sample aw believe tha'rt reight, for this is strong enuff to drive me aght o'th haase. Eggs is nivver fit to ait unless they're fresh, and tha owt to know that."

"It's a queer thing if that isn't fresh, for aw nobbut bowt a duzzen off Judy Jooans yesterdy, an shoo declared shoo laid em hersen."

"Then that accaants for it, for its just th' soort ov a egg at aw should fancy Judy wod lay. When tha buys onny moor, be sewer they've been laid wi a nice young pullet an then they willn't poison a chap. That's ommost browt mi heart up."

"If that's all tha hadn't mich to bring up, but if tha wor like other husbands tha'd set to wark an fix that cellar up, an buy some hens an then tha'd know who laid em. But tha'll do nowt nobbut sit o' thi backside an smook or else spend thi time i' some public wi a glass anent thi. Aw wonder sometimes ha tha can fashion to pool up to th' table an ait at all. But ther's nowt trubbles thee soa long as tha gets thi belly full an has a shillin i' thi pocket an a gooid bed to come to at neet."

"Why, when aw mentioned keepin hens last spring, tha flew up in a tantrum, an sed tha'd have nooan sich powse abaat th' haase, but if tha thinks we could do wi some aw'll get some to-day. This is Setterdy an ther's allus plenty to be had i'th market. Aw think it ud be a gooid idea for ther's nowt awm fonder on nor a fresh egg in a drop o' rum in a mornin."

"Rum agean! It's th' topmost thowt i' thi mind. If aw live longer nor thee, aw'll put a bottle into thi coffin. Tho' if aw did, aw do believe tha'd get up an sup it. But if tha likes to goa an buy a couple o' nice hens an fix a place up for em, tha can tak this five shillin an see what tha can do. An if tha brings me mi reight change an doesn't stop long, aw'll see if aw cannot have summat for thi at tha'll like."

"Aw'll hunt up old blind Billy, an get a couple off him, becoss aw know he's honest, an ther's net monny honest fowk i'th hen trade."

Sammywell worn't long befoor he wor off, an as he wor passin th' Market Tavern, he saw blind Billy commin aght. He tell'd him just what he wanted, an Billy sed, "As far as aw can see, tha's just come at th' reight time, for aw've three grand young pullets at's all ready for layin, an aw'll let thi have em cheap. Six shillin for three; and they're cheap at seven an sixpence."

"Nay, tha axes too much, they're sich little ens."

"Aw nivver saw three bigger at that price," he sed, an as he wor born stooan blind that wor true.

"Aw'll gie thi five shillin, an strike th' bargain just nah," sed Sammywell.

"Tha'rt a hard customer, but as we've had monny a drink together, tha shall have em."

Soa th' brass an th' chickens changed hands an Sammywell wor sooin back hooam wi his bargain.

"Tha hasn't been long," sed Mally, as shoo lukt at th' hens, "an whear's mi change?"

"Ha mich change did ta expect aght o' five shillin, when aw've browt thi three layin pullets?"

"If awd gien thi ten it ud just ha been th' same an aw owt to ha had moor sense nor to ax. But nah tha's getten em, whear does ta intend to put em?"

"Aw'll put em i' yond old hamper 'at's i'th' cellar. Aw cannot fix a place for em befoor Monday."

"Noa, but tha can beg an old box or two or a few booards wol tha'rt aght to-day an then tha'll have all ready for a start."

Sundy mornin saw Sammywell up i' gooid time, an his first job wor to feed his chickens. He felt quite like a farmer in a small way. Then Mally had to goa an peep at em. "Sammywell! come hither this minnit!" shoo called aght, an he ran daan fit to braik his neck. "Peep into that corner," shoo sed, as shoo raised th' hamper lid. An thear sewer enuff; ther wor a nice white egg. He picked it aght gently an they booath examined it, an they thowt they'd nivver seen one as nice befoor.

"What mun we do wi it?" sed Mally.

"Aw think th' best thing to do wi it will be to ait it."

"It ommost luks a shame, but still aw suppooas that's what its for. Aw wonder which laid it. Does ta think it wor th' black en or th' braan en? Aw fancy it wor th' white en."

"Eeah, aw think it must ha been th' white en," sed Sammywell, "but get it boiled an we'll share it."

They wor as pleeased as two childer ovver ther braikfast, an it had seldom happened at they'd booath been in sich a gooid temper as they wor when they started for th' chapel. Sammywell had oppened th' cellar winder to let some air in, an after lockin th' door they wor just startin off, when what should they see but that white chicken pickin away i'th fould.

"Nah, tha sees what tha's done! Tha's left th' lid off that hamper! Aw wish tha'd let things alooan at tha doesn't understand. Tha knows nowt abaat chickens."

"It's thi own fault for leeavin th' cellar winder oppen! Onny fooil mud ha known better nor that. But let's drive it back, if we leeav it aght it'll be lost."

"Shoo shoo," went Sammy, an "Shoo shoo," went Mally, but th' chicken seemed to tak varry little nooatice, until Sammywell made a click at it, then it gave a scream an ran between his legs, an seemed detarmined to goa onnywhear except to th' cellar winder. Hepsabah wor lukkin aght o'th winder an saw what they wor tryin to do, soa shoo coom aght wi th' long brush to help em, an little Jerrymier coom to help too. "Nah, gently does it," sed Sammywell, an they gethered raand in a ring an it lukt as if they wor just gooin to nab it, when Jerrymier sed "Shoo, shoo" an away it flew, clean ovver ther heeads, daan th' ginnel an aght into Westgate.

"Tha young taistrel!" sed Sammywell, but he off after it as hard as he could, an a fine race it gave him. Up one street an daan another they went, but Sammywell's blooid wor up an he worn't gooin to be lickt wi a bit ov a chicken. Th' streets wor lined wi fowk gooin to chapel or church, an they shook ther heeads in a varry meeanin way, an some on em turned up th' whites o' ther een as if they wor tryin to see th' inside o' ther heeads, but Sammywell went on an nivver lost seet o'th chicken. They'd ommost getten to th' taan hall, when they coom to a spice shop an th' door wor oppen, an in it popt. "Nah, aw've getten thi!" he sed, an he follered it in an shut th' door.

Th' young woman i'th shop wor capt when it jumpt onto th' caanter. "Catch it, mistress!" sed Sammy, an shoo clickt at it, but it flew i'th winder, an nivver mind if it didn't mak th' mint drops fly! Then it gate aght an swept all th' glass ornaments off th' shelf an peearked up on th' shandileer; Sammy struck at it wi his umberell, but he missed it, an gave th' young woman's heead sich a crack wol it rang like a pot. Then he oppened th' door an as luck wod have it, it flew aght. Sammy flew aght too, an th' woman ran after him, holdin booath hands to her heead an cryin "Murder!"

That wor enough to start all th' lads 'at should ha been at Sundy schooil after Sammywell, but he didn't care. After it he ran an at last it flew into a ass-middin, an nah he felt sewer on it. It tried to fly aght but it couldn't, but ther wor noa way to get it but to goa in after it. He wished he hadn't had on his best Sundy suit, but ther wor no help for it. He managed to crawl in, an in a minnit he wor up to his knees i' ass an puttaty pillins. Th' chicken raised sich a dust wi flutterin abaat wol he wor ommost chooaked an blinded, but he grabbed it an wor sooin aght, lukkin as if somedy'd been shakin a flaar seck ovver his heead. Th' lads set up a shaat, but he tuk noa nooatice, an made th' best of his way towards hooam, takkin care net to goa past th' spice shop, for he didn't think it wor a proper day for business like that 'at wod be waitin for him. Mally an Hepsabah follered bi a lot o'th naybors, wor commin to see what had become on him, an when they saw what a pictur he'd made ov hissen, they fairly skriked wi laffin--all but Mally. Shoo wor soa mad wol shoo couldn't spaik.

Just as they'd getten to th' end o'th ginnel, old Zekil saw him, and sed--"Heigh up, thear! What are ta dooin wi that chicken?"

"Awm takkin it whear it belangs."

"That's my chicken, put it daan an mell on it agean at thi peril."

"Nay, Zekil," sed Mally, "it's awr chicken, for Sammywell bowt it yesterdy an its laid us a egg this mornin."

"Aw tell yo it's mine! It's nivver laid onny eggs, for it's a cock. Aw can own it becoss its tail feathers is brokken."

Sammywell lukt at it, "aw wish its neck had been brokken," he sed.

Zekil tuk it an made off wi it, an Sammywell an Mally went hooam; "Goa into th' cellar an see for thisen," sed Mally, "Awm as sewer yond's awr chicken as aw've a nooas o' my face."

He went to see, and there wor his three chickens just as he'd left em.

"Nah, what am aw to do? Theas clooas'll nivver be like thersen agean, an awm wellny choaked."

"Tha desarves twice as mich as tha's getten! To think at a chap has lived to thy time o' life an connot tell th' difference between a cock an a hen. Tha must be daft."

"Daft! Soa are ta daft! Tha knew noa moor nor me. But tha can tak thi chickens, an goa to blazes wi em for owt aw care! It wor thee at wanted em, it wor nooan o' me!"

"Tha'rt net spaikin trewth--"

"Well, tha'rt another! If it hadn't been for thee awst ha been i'th chapel this minnit."

"Tha'rt happen as weel at hooam, for tha'rt nooan in a fit state o' mind for th' chapel."

"Awm nooan in a fit state o' body nawther aw think. Just luk at theas clooas!"

"Goa upstairs an change em, an aw'll see what aw can do wi em. Tha'rt th' biggest fool aw ivver met i' my life."

What came of a Clock Almanac.

Rosa and Louisa Mellit wor dressmakkers--they'd nawther father nor mother, an nowt to live on but what they could addle wi ther fingers, an that worn't mich; for tho' they'd had a bit ov a shop for ten year, asteead o'th' customers gettin mooar, they gate steadily less--nah an then they'd a dress to mak for a sarvant lass or some o'th naybors' wives or dowters, but when th' dresses wor made an sent hooam, monny a time they didn't get paid for em for months an months, an often enuff they nivver finger'd th' brass at all.

Soa as th' years went on things went from bad to worse, an asteead o' payin ready money for jock as they bowt, they'd to get it on th' strap, until ther worn't a place near whear they'd trust em onny mooar. They'd selled as much o' ther furnitur as they could till they'd nowt else left at onnybody wod buy; an they'd popt bits o' things, sich as books an odds an ends, till they'd nowt else left to pop. An nah th' rent day wor next mornin, an barrin abaat hawf a soverin they hadn't onnythin to pay it wi.

"If we could nobbut get us own debts paid," sed Louisa one neet, when th' shutters were up an they wor talkin things ovver, "we could do nicely--awm sewer Missis Rhodes could pay that three paand shoo owes us easy enuff if shoo wod."

"Aw ax'd her to-day," sed Rosa, "an shoo sed shoo'd try an let us have five shillin at Midsummer."

"What's five shillin then, when we've eight paand ten to pay to morn?"

They booath sat ovver a handful o' coils ther wor i'th grate an sed nowt for a bit, then Rosa sed,

"Ther's yond length o' black silk we've had soa long, that piece Missis Jackson ordered an then wod'nt tak; we mun sell that, it cost fower paand, happen we can get three for it. Whear is it?"

Louisa gate up an fotch'd it off a shelf--it wor tied up in a piece o' paper, an when shoo oppened it aght, it must ha getten damp somehah, for it wor all i' patches o' white mowd, an fairly ruinated.

Then booath on em burst into tears when they saw it, and sat daan ageean an sobbed for long enuff.

"Ther's nowt for it but to be turn'd aght o'th haase an goa an work i' a mill," sed Louisa.

"Eeah! dear-a-me, to think o' us commin to that." An they booath cried ageean.

"We must have summat at we can sell," Rosa sobbed in a bit, "what's getten mother's brooach?"

"We sell'd that to pay th' doctor's bill when poor owd Hamer next door had th' fever soa long." "So we did, awd forgetten."

Ageean nawther on em spake for a bit, an th' wind howl'd raaad th' haase, an rain beat ageean th' panes, an all on a sudden Rosa jump'd up an sed--

"Louisa, dooan't yo' remember when mother wor deein, shoo sed ther wor a little tin box i' her trunk, an at if ivver we wor i' onny trouble we wor to look inside ov it."

"Aw think aw do, but aw nivver saw th' box, whear is it?"

"Aw dooan't know, unless its i'th trunk still, let's hev a look for it."

They gate a cannel an went upstairs, an varry sooin coom daan ageean wi a owd tin trunk at they put on th' hearthstun. Louisa oppened it, an start'd rummagin abaat amang a whole lot o' odds an ends o' wearin apparel, an reight daan i'th bottom corner her hand coom agean summat hard.

"Here it is," shoo sed, as shoo pool'd aght a little flat tin box, abaat eight inches long an six inches wide an appen hawf an inch thick.

One end ov it wor made to slide off, but it wor soa rusty for want o' use 'at it tuk a bit o' bother to loise it, but at last off it coom, an Louisa put in her finger and pool'd aght--not a savins bank book wi a gooid raand sum o' money on its pages--but three owd numbers o'th Clock Almanack.

Poor lasses, they'd been expectin sich things aght o' this box, at when they saw what it contain'd they booath started o' cryin agean.

"Poor mother," sed Rosa, "shoo allus used to say 'at if shoo wor low spirit'd or i' trubble th' "Clock Almanack" allus cheer'd her up, an shoo must ha thowt it wod cheer us up too."

An then they cried agean, for nawther on em felt at all inclin'd for readin noa comic stooaries, or thowt at they'd find much comfort i'th Yorksher dialect that neet; soa Louisa put em back into th' box an nivver oppen'd em--but as th' box wor rayther thin, shoo had to slide em in one at a time, an as shoo wor puttin in th' second one, th' remainin almanac slipt off her knee onto th' floor, an tho' shoo didn't see it, a bit o' white paper fell aght ov it an lay under th' table.

When th' box wor put away they went to bed withaat supper, an cried thersens to sleep, an th' paper laid thear under th' table all neet, an a couple o' braan mice play'd all raand it, an used it insteead ov a table cloth to eat ther supper off.

I'th mornin when Rosa coom daan to leet th' fire th' piece o' paper wor th' furst thing shoo saw when shoo took th' shut daan; shoo picked it up an turn'd it ovver, an thear if it worn't a Ten Paand Bank o' England Nooat. Tawk abaat rejoicins, jewbilee days is nowt to that mornin. Louisa nearly went off her chump an they'd th' best braikfast they'd had for years.

They hadn't noa daat as to whear it had come thro' for it wor dated th' year at ther mother deed, they knew at it must ha been hers, an it had no daat been i'th trunk an tummell'd aght when they wor turnin things ovver--they had another look but ther wor noa mooar. It wor Rosa at look'd, but as shoo knew ther were nowt i'th little tin box but Clock Almanacks, shoo didn't oppen it.

As sooin as th' banks oppen'd Louisa went an gate th' nooat chang'd soa as to be ready for th' lanlord when he coom, an when shoo gate back Rosa met her at th' door wi a smillin face, and sed, at Missis Rhodes had browt th' three paand shoo owed em, an ordered a new black silk dress beside; soa they gate daan th' mouldy piece at they'd look'd at th' neet befooar, an to ther joy they faand aght at th' stains wor only on th' two aghtside folds, an inside it wor all reight an wod mak th' dress weel enuff.

They'd a happy day as yo can guess, an at dinner time they sent a bit o' beef an Yorksher puddin to a poorly woman at liv'd daan th' yard, an like all fowk at does a gooid turn to them at's war off nor thersens, they felt better for it. That neet when th' shop wor shut, they sat daan beside th' assnook an began o' tawkin ha different things seemed thro' what they had done th' neet befooar.

"Just to think," sed Rosa, "last neet we'd nobbut ten shillin an th' rent to pay; an naah we've th' rent paid, an nearly five paand beside, an a dress to mak into th' bargain."

"Eah!" Louisa went on, "an just fancy sellin yond owd bonnet at we've had soa long, to that owd woman at sed shoo couldn't bide new fashioned things."

"Well we've had bad luck long enuff, aw hope it'll turn nah--if we could nobbut get a bit o' brass, we'd buy Miss Simpson's shop i' front street." An soa they tawked on poor lasses i'th gladness o' ther hearts, for it wor wi them as it is wi a seet o' others i' this cowd hard world, they'd had soa mich claady weather at a bit o' sunshine wor ommost mooar nor they could understand. After they'd had ther supper, Louisa sed, "Rosa, last neet aw felt as if aw couldn't bear to read in them owd Clock Almanacs o' mothers, but aw feel to-neet as if a gooid stooary wodn't come amiss."

"Aw'll read one," sed Rosa, an shoo gate up an gate th' little tin case aght o'th box, an took th' Almanacs aght:--

"Ther's eighteen seventy fower, an five, an six, which shall aw read aght on?"

"Th' owdest one," Louisa answered, "tho' noa daat they'll all be gooid."

Rosa pickt seventy fower aght, an oppen'd it, an as shoo did soa a crisp bit o' white paper fell aght, Louisa catcht it befooar it gate to th' floor, an thear it wor a five paand nooat.

"Turn ovver th' leeaves," Louisa cried, "Quick! Quick!"