For John's Sake Part 12

"EH, la.s.s, but thou'rt a bad un ter be talkin' o' turnin' a new leaf; with t' cursin', swearin' toongue, and t' drinkin' waays, dost think it's gooin' ter be so foine and eaasy ter gi'e t' all o'er in sich a moighty hoory?"

The question was addressed by a stalwart labouring man to his wife, as he stood in the doorway of his little cottage, one of a few that nestled at the foot of one of the Yorkshire hills, and from which could be seen stretching yet further below, the smoky chimneys of a large manufacturing town, in such as which England's wealth and commercial prosperity are so largely centred.

"Lad, thee moight well woonder at a wicked wench loike thy la.s.s talkin'

o' gettin' saaved; ay, and thee may sneer as mooch as thee loikes; aw mun reeap as aw ha' sowed, and aw deserve thy haard woords, and thee'll't not foind me makkin' ony raash booast; but aw mun saay ter thee 'at, He who saaved t' thief on t' cross caanst saave a big sinner loike me; ay, and keep me from t' swearin' and t' drinkin'," answered his wife, who was busily engaged in sweeping a filthy floor, preparatory to bestowing upon the blackened stones a hearty scrubbing.

"Weel, aw'll not heender thee, loike some 'ud do, if thee'll't see ter my comforts as thou hast t' mornin'," replied John Ibbetson, thinking with satisfaction of the unaccustomed luxury of a well-prepared breakfast, which had been awaiting him on his arrival from his work close by, at an early hour, that same morning. Pursuing his way thither again, he thought of the strange events that had been crowded into a short s.p.a.ce of time. The invitation to the preaching of an evangelist in the Mission Room on the hill-side, that had been given to his wife yesterday morning; the call of a kindly-disposed neighbour, who herself regularly attended the little room, just before the evening service commenced; and then the sight he had witnessed of the neat, respectable neighbour, and his ill-clothed, dirty wife, going up the hill together.

He thought of the strange scene that met his view on his return to his home after spending the evening hours as usual with a neighbour, smoking and conversing on the topics of the day, for John prided himself that his figure had never darkened the doorway of the wretched tavern that was his wife's continual resort.

"T' la.s.s knows all about t' inside o' t' beastly plaace, and 'at's enoogh for me," he would say in reply to any invitation from its many frequenters to join them in their social evenings. He never went nearer than when compelled. Occasionally he waited at some little distance for the stumbling figure of his wife, in order to help her along the solitary path that led to their miserable dwelling. But no such task lay before him when he left his neighbour's cheerful fireside; neither was his wife lying in a state of helpless intoxication across the bed; nor was she even sitting muddled and stupified, waiting his arrival to make the cottage resound with her oaths, when he should refuse to supply her with the means for further revelry and drunken debauch. In the usually empty grate a glowing fire shed its warmth and radiance through the room; on the table there was a jug of steaming coffee, and a pile of bread and b.u.t.ter; and, strangest of all, on the well-swept hearth were his dilapidated slippers warmed and ready, and close beside them his chair, evidently drawn from its corner in expectation of his arrival.

Half suspicious of some new design against his peace, he looked dubiously around, and only ventured to say: "Thou'rt home early, la.s.s, t' neaght?"

"Ay, lad, thou sayest it; and more's t' shame, 'at aw've ever been aught but hoom ter greeat thee; aw've gotten good oop at yond meetin'

hoose t' neaght, and aw've proomised t' Looard and t' fouks 'at aw'll gie oop t' alehoose and t' drink; aw've been a bad woife ter thee, and a weecked mother ter t' childer; but t' Looard in mercy ha' forgi'en me all my seens; and aw'm 'at happy aw could daance for t' joy. Dost heear me, lad?" she continued, as her husband stared in dumbfounded fashion at her.

"Thee may weel stare thee een oot wi' wonner, for aw waalked streeaght ter t' tap yonder, and thinkin' ter mysen, now t' Looard ha' weshed my blaack heaart t' least aw could do 'ud be t' wesh my blaack faace, aw didn't gi'e o'er rubbin' and scrubbin' till aw left thee little enoogh sooap t' wesh thysen coom t' mornin', and t' floor 'lt ha' its turn t'

morrow."

"La.s.s, if 'at thee's been saayin' be true, then aw mun saay t' Looard, aboot whom thee taalks so glib, 'll ha' His haands full to keeap thee oot o' meescheef for a while; it's a seaght more nor aw could do," said John, at length finding his voice.

"Thou'rt reaght enoogh, lad; but His hands are aye poowerful, so aw'm toold. Maybe, thee 'ud goo ter t' chapel wi' me to-morrow neaght, and hear t' preachin'; it's wonnerful and foine," and then Jane handed a steaming cup of coffee to her husband, and waited his reply with some trepidation, for, in her simple soul, there had already sprung up the desire, sure proof of the reality of the Spirit's work in any heart that another should partake of the new life that had come to her.

"See thee, la.s.s; thee'lt just stop 'at koind o' taalk: aw'll not goo to yond plaace coom a greeat while; thee'lt have ter show t' work's reeal wi' thee, afore thee sees me walkin' oop t' hill aside o' thee; aw've no drinkin', swearin' waays ter gi'e o'er, thee knows," said John.

"Ay, ay, John, 'at's true, and thou'st been paatient and forbearin' wi'

me, and wi' G.o.d's help, aw'll mak' thee a better woife in t' future, and mebbe when thou see'st what religion's done for me, thou'lt tak' thy waay wi' me oop to yond little room," hopefully replied Sarah.

Well might John Ibbetson pursue his way as in a dream, with such a new experience of domestic comfort to engage his thoughts; yet, reaching the farm on which he worked, he drew a deep sigh as he turned to his ploughing, and muttered: "Ay, it proomises fair, but t' la.s.s'll never hoold oot aw'm feared."

"Lad," said his wife, as they sat at tea before the shining grate; "thou'lt not saay aught agaainst me gooin' to t' meetin' to-noight; aw'm but weeak, and t' seaght o' t' happy faaces oop yonder'll do me a power o' good; aw'll settle doon to spend t'neaghts wi' thee, if thou wilt, by and bye."

"Go where thou wilt, and welcoom, la.s.s, if 'twill help thee to keeap from t' alehouse," replied John, too wise to utter the surprise that nearly overwhelmed him on hearing his. .h.i.therto unmanageable wife appeal to him for permission to spend the evening away from her home, the claims of which had been so completely disregarded by her in the past.

As the weeks went by John's fears respecting his wife's steadfastness seemed likely to be unrealised; for, under the inspiration of her new life, the home, her children, and herself underwent a thorough reformation, and her husband began to breathe freely as he marked the visible signs of the change in his wife's heart. But many a wise head was significantly shaken, and many a sage tongue whispered: "Bide a while, and ye'll see it 'll all end i' smooke; Saarah Ann Ibbetson's looved her coops too weel to gi'e un oop in sooch a hurry."

It was Sunday evening, and Mrs. Ibbetson was seated beside her fireside, spelling out with great pains the last part of the chapter which had been read before the sermon at chapel that night. It was the ninth chapter of St. Mark's Gospel, and she had commenced at the thirtieth verse, but had not found the pa.s.sage which had troubled and surprised her whilst hearing it read; but travelling down the verses with her forefinger pointing to each line, lest her eye, unaccustomed to the task, should mislead her, and some of the sacred words be pa.s.sed over unread, at last she reached the forty-third verse.

"It's un!" she triumphantly exclaimed.

"Eh, but it's a haard un!" was her verdict when she had finished it; "Aw 'll raad un agaain;" and she read: "And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into h.e.l.l, into the fire that never shall be quenched."

She put the Bible away, and gazing into the fire, mused aloud: "Aw'm daazed aboot yond text; aw never heeard loike on't; but aw'm thinkin'

it's only fair; if t' reet hand offeends cut un off, and serve un reet too. T' blessed Looard, He knows all about it, He does, and He'd raather see His childer waalk inter t' glory wi' one hand than know they'd gone doon inter yond daarkness wi' their two seenful hands ter burn ter all 'ternity; ay, it's plaain enoogh for a poor eegnorant la.s.s loike mysen to get un," and having settled the difficult question to her own satisfaction, without the aid of commentators, Sarah Ann rose and bustled about getting her husband's supper.

John Ibbetson was hurrying home one night shortly after the above occurrences pleasantly antic.i.p.ating the now usual sight of a clean hearth, a waiting supper, and a welcoming wife; but pushing open the door he found the room in total darkness, and on striking a light he saw it was unoccupied.

"Maybe t' la.s.s 'as grown weary and gone ter bed," said John to himself, resolutely turning from a horrible fear that fell coldly on his heart.

Taking up the candle he stepped into the sleeping room, but the bed was undisturbed, and he came back into the kitchen, muttering: "T' chapel's all daark and cloosed, where can t'la.s.s be? anyhow aw'll gi'e a look roound," and taking up his hat, John pa.s.sed into the darkness without.

Shrieks and shouts, alas! too well known to be mistaken, fell on his ear. Hastening forward he took his wife from the hands of those who were bringing her towards her home; but she broke from him, and staggering on with uncertain footsteps, entered the cottage first. He relit the candle, then facing her with folded arms and a stern brow, as she dropped into a chair, he said: "So thee'st been at t' cursed drink agaain, after all t' foine proomises, and thee a-foolin me, poor daft un 'at I be, to a' gi'en ear ter all thou'st had ter say. What deevil has been temptin' thee, la.s.s, to-neet, to forget all t' chapel goin' and t'

friends who ha' looked after thee so weel?"

But the only answer that Sarah Ann seemed capable of making was the reiteration: "Aw've got ter cut un off, lad; aw'll cut un off, t' wicked haand;" and the poor woman struck at the offending member with such savage force, that her husband interfered and dragged her in sullen despair to her bed.

He awoke the next morning with a burden on his heart that he could not account for, until the recollection of the events of the previous night flashed into his mind.

"Eh, but she's a reet down bad un; what's t' use o' me pullin' one waay, and her t' other; t' poor childer's just dragged oop by t' hair o' t'

head; aw'll ha' no more on't, aw've gi'en her her chances o'er and o'er, but she's coom ter t' end o' tether at laast; t' wicked hussy shaal goo," the poor fellow groaned; and with this resolve firmly fixed in his mind, he turned out of bed, and betook himself to the kitchen. There, to his unbounded astonishment, was his wife, whom he had missed, sitting beside the fire, with her arms folded in her ap.r.o.n, and bearing on her face the impress of keen suffering. On the table there was a cup and saucer placed for him, and the kettle was hissing and steaming on the glowing coals.

"Tak' summat afore thee goos to woork, lad; aw caan't help thee mysen, till t' pain's a bit o'er," said Sarah Ann in a trembling voice, watching her husband's face in evident fear.

"Aw want nought ter eat; thou'lt not soft sooap me so eaasy," replied John, gruffly; but looking at her again, he said: "What's the maatter wi' thee noo?"

"See thee, lad," and the woman uncovered her ap.r.o.n, and revealed a sickening sight; a right hand, blackened, shrivelled, and quivering with the torture of the fiery ordeal through which it had been made to pa.s.s.

Strong man though he was, John Ibbetson staggered back in horror.

"La.s.s," gasped he, with his eyes yet riveted, spell-bound, on the hideous spectacle; "la.s.s, what hast thee done wi' t' poor haand?"

"Fetch yond Bible from t' shelf, lad, and read t' neanth chaapter o'

Maark, and t' forty-third verse."

John obeyed, and read aloud the verse which had been the subject of his wife's meditations a few Sabbath evenings before.

"Noo, lad, aw'll tell thee all aboot it. Thee'd just goon ter woork yester morn, when Emma Ward stepped in, and 'La.s.s,' she said, 'thee mun coom oop t' hill wi' me, for Jim Green's little un's deein', and t'

mother's well nigh craazed;' thee knows aw couldn't be unneeboorloike, so aw good, and gi'ed a helpin' haand, and they o'er persuaded me ter tak' a gla.s.s o' waarm speerit to keep t' cold oot, and I set my faace against it at first, but it looked so temptin', at aw stretched oot t'

reet haand and finished glaas cleean off, and coomin' hoom, deevil, he saaid: 'thee ud best feenish oop at t' ale-hoose,' and aw were paarched for more o' cursed stoof, and t' knows t' rest; and coom t' morn, aw saaid, 'Aw'll cut un off, t' reet haand 'at took glaa.s.s, for aw'll goo inter t' kingdom maimed sooner aw'll goo to yond plaace o' daarkness wi'

my two haands,' and aw'd gotten t' axe ter chop un off, when aw thowt o'

thee and the childer, and how thee and them 'ud miss t' haand, and aw coomd baack ter kitchen, and said: 'Aw'll gi'en a good lesson, anyhow; aw'll gi'en a taaste o' t' fire as'll mind un o' t' fire 'at burns for aye', and aw put un in and held un in, and thee 'lt ha'e ter see ter thy own meals coom a while, and if t' nasty thing offends again aw'll cut un off, and thee'lt ha' ter do t' best thee can for thysen, for aw've promised to mind all t' Book says;" and Sarah Ann turned the ap.r.o.n carefully over the poor maimed hand, and rocked herself to and fro, in her cruel pain.

"Thee's a braave la.s.s; and if thou'rt gooin' ter turn t' faace from t'

drink agaain, aw'll hould on ter thee, and help thee; but thee'st been reeadin' t' Bible oopside doon, aw reeckon; aw never heeard tell o'

fouks maimin' theirsens in looike faashion; thee'ud best get paarson ter mak' t' verse reet;" and John walked away to his work with new thoughts stirring in his breast; and a tenderness, to which it had long been a stranger, swelling within his heart at the remembrance of his suffering wife, who was so earnest in her purpose of breaking through the power of evil habit, and, at all costs, finding her way into the kingdom of heaven.

"T' la.s.s shall not goo alone," was his decision at length, and John Ibbetson made up his mind that next Sabbath he and his wife would walk up the hill in company, and for the first time since their marriage, enter the house of G.o.d together.

The news spread like wildfire through the village that "John Ibbetson's la.s.s had well-nigh burned her hand ter t' bone for tamperin' wi' t'

drink agaain;" and in the forenoon of the same day, the neighbour who had persuaded Sarah Ann to accompany her to that special service where a new life had dawned for her some months before, called to see what truth there was in the tale.

As soon as she had entered the door Mrs. Ibbetson greeted her.

"Aw thowt thee 'ud coom, Jane; hast t' heard aw got at t' drink last een? but," she said, holding up her mutilated hand in triumph, "Aw've gi'ed un a good waarmin' for its sen."

"Eh, but it's an awfu' burnin'!" exclaimed the neighbour; "dost think, thou poor la.s.s, at 'll keep thee from t' drink?"

"If it doesn't, then aw mun cut un off, for t' Book saays it, and aw'm bound to mind what t' Book saays," answered Mrs. Ibbetson.

"Saarah Ann," said her startled neighbour; "If thee thinks 'at t' good Looard bids thee hurt and maim thysen, thou'st maade a mistaak."