Yorkshire Tales Volume III Part 9

Mabel laft, an Sydney tried to laff too, as he sed:--

"Aw nivver heeard ov it befooar, but if yor fond ov it, aw'll try an get it an sing it for yo."

Th' owd man wor baan to ax some mooar questions when Sydney thinkin it wor time to change th' subject, sed:--"Aw've come, Mr. Mothersdale, to ax if yo've onny objections to"--he'd quite forgetten abaat his voice ageean, an when he gate that far, Mabel's father begun o' beein quite sewer i' wor th' madman, an he stuck in wi:--"Do yo happen, Mr. Horne, to have a big knife abaat yo, for aw want one for abaat hawf a minnit?"

Sydney wor just baan to bring aght his Jack knife, but he remembered just i' time, soa he sed, "Noa, awm sorry aw haven't, but Mister Mothersdale wod yo have onny objections to Mabel an me keepin company?

Awm weel off, aw've a gooid hooam to tak her to, an awm sewer aw can mak her happy."

Nah ivvery word at Sydney sed made owd Mothersdale mooar sewer at he wor th' chap at he'd coom daan i'th train wi th' neet afooar. He wor awfully riled abaat it yo may be sewer, for if ther wor one thing on earth at he couldn't abide it wor th' stink o' bacca, an he'd been varry near smooared i' that railway carriage. But wol he wor as mad as a hatter abaat it, he remembered at he'd heeard Mabel say 'at this Mister Horne had heaps o' bra.s.s, soa he thowt he'd say no mooar abaat th' neet afooar, but let him wed th' la.s.s, an tak a revenge aght ov him some other way.

Soa he started jawin away, as these better cla.s.s fathers does, abaat ha he couldn't bide to part wi his dear Mabel, an soa on; but when Sydney tell'd him abaat his Bank shares, an th' cottage haase property, he sooin gave in.

"Well," he sed wi a sniff, as if he'd getten a bad cowd in his heead, "if yo booath on yo love each other soa mich, aw willn't stand in th'

road o' yor happiness, but ther's one little request aw must ask yo to grant me, Mr. Horne, in return for my dowter?"

Sydney wor soa sewted at th' way things wor gooin, at he blurted aght, "awst be glad to promise owt yo like to ask, sir."

"Awm a member o' th' Anti-tobacca Society," sed th' owd beggar chucklin to hissen, "an aw hooap yo dooant indulge i' smookin or snufftakkin?"

"Aw do smook a little, sir, but varry little."

"Then, ov cooa.r.s.e as its soa little, yo willn't object to give it up in order to win Mabel's hand?"

Poor Sydney, he'd n.o.bbut had three cigars that mornin, an he wor fair deein to get aght an have a smook, but ther didn't seem noa escape, soa wi a sigh, he sed:--"Varry weel, sir, aw'll give it up."

Owd Mothersdale grinned, an thowt ha nicely he wor payin him off for th'

neet befoor, then he shoved a sheet o' paper across th' table, an Sydney wrote on it that he promised nivver to smook no mooar wol th' owd chap consented.

"Aw shall nivver consent," sed Mr. Mothersdale, "haivver it doesn't matter. Nah, Mabel, gie me a kiss, an then yo an Mister Horne can run away an talk things ovver."

Mabel kissed him, an went away wi Sydney, but when shoo axed him afterwards what th' joke wor he'd promised to tell her, he pretended he'd forgetten.

They wor wed at Midsummer, an Sydney kept his word abaat smookin--he started chewin, an suckin owd empty pipes, but it worn't like smookin, an whenivver he smelt th' reek ov a cigar it fair set him longin, but like a man owt to do, he didn't braik his promise.

Abaat a year after, when they wor baan to cursen th' babby, Mabel's father wor ax'd to th' ceremony. Mabel wor vexed at Sydney couldn't smook, becoss shoo knew ha fond he wor on it, soa th' afternooin her father wor expected, shoo sed, "we'll cure papa ov his dislike to bacca smook, or else we'll get him to let yo smook ageean."

"Hah'll yo do it, la.s.s?"

"Wait an see," shoo sed, "yo shall smook a pipe to-neet."

He wondered ha it wor to be done, an at fower o'clock shoo sent him off to th' stashun to meet her father.

When they gate back th' whole haase wor full o' bacca smook, in bedrooms an pa.s.sages, on th' steps, in th' sittin rooms, ther wor thick white claads ov it.

"Oh, dear-a-me," sed Mr. Mothersdale, "whativvers this? Sydney yo've brokken yor promise, an been smookin?"

"Aw haven't," Sidney sed, "nivver a whif hav aw smook'd sin th' day aw promised."

"Noa," Mabel sed, "we've faand a better way nor that, we're booath fond o'th reek o' bacca, soa we get a fumigatin thing aght o'th greenhaase, and burn bacca in it, it sents all th' haase i' noa time, an saves Sydney all th' trubble o' puffin away at pipes an cigars."

He felt he wor done--he couldn't live i' sich a smook as that, soa he tell'd Sydney at if he'd keep his smookin aght o'th raich o' his nooas, he could start when he liked, providin they wodn't use th' fumigator noa mooar.

Sidney slipt aght into th' back garden, an smook'd what he thowt wor th'

best cigar he'd ivver had in his life; an as it says in stooary books "they all lived varry happy ivver afterwards."

Awr Lad.

Beautiful babby! Beautiful lad!

Pride o' thi mother and joy o' thi dad!

Full ov sly tricks an sweet winnin ways;-- Two cherry lips whear a smile ivver plays; Two little een ov heavenly blue,-- Wonderinly starin at ivverything new, Two little cheeks like leaves of a rooas,-- An planted between em a wee little nooas, A chin wi a dimple 'at tempts one to kiss;-- Nivver wor bonnier babby nor this.

Two little hands 'at are seldom at rest,-- Except when asleep in thy snug little nest.

Two little feet 'at are kickin all day, Up an daan, in an aght, like two kittens at play.

Welcome as dewdrops 'at freshen the flaars, Soa has thy commin cheered this life ov awrs.

What tha may come to noa mortal can tell;-- We hooap an we pray 'at all may be well.

We've other young taistrels, one, two an three, But net one ith' bunch is moor welcome nor thee.

Sometimes we are tempted to grummel an freeat, Becoss we goa short ov what other fowk get.

Poverty sometimes we have as a guest, But tha needn't fear, tha shall share ov the best.

What are fowks' riches to mother an me?

All they have wodn't buy sich a babby as thee.

Aw wor warned i' mi young days 'at weddin browt woe, 'At labor an worry wod keep a chap low,-- 'At love aght o' th' winder wod varry sooin flee, When poverty coom in at th' door,--but aw see Old fowk an old sayins sometimes miss ther mark, For love shines aght breetest when all raand is dark.

Ther's monny a n.o.bleman, wed an hawf wild, 'At wod give hawf his fortun to have sich a child.

Then why should we envy his wealth an his lands, Tho' sarvents attend to obey his commands?

For we have the treasures noa riches can buy, An aw think we can keep em,--at leeast we can try; An if it should pleeas Him who orders all things, To call yo away to rest under His wings,-- Tho to part wod be hard, yet this comfort is giv'n, We shall know 'at awr treasures are safe up i' Heaven Whear no moth an noa rust can corrupt or destroy, Nor thieves can braik in, nor troubles annoy.

Blessins on thi! wee thing,--an whativver thi lot, Tha'rt promised a mansion, tho born in a cot, What fate is befoor thi noa mortal can see, But Christ coom to call just sich childer as thee.

An this thowt oft cheers me, tho' fortun may fraan, Tha may yet be a jewel to shine in His craan.

Grimes' Galloway.

"It's noa use, Sammywell,--aw dooant knaw ha tha feels, but aw can a.s.sure thee 'at aw dooant feel so young as aw used to do. When aw wor twenty years younger tha allus set off bi thisen an left me to mooild amang it th' best way aw could; but nah, when tha knows 'at aw can hardly put one fooit afoor tother tha wants me to goa for a walk. Its weel enuff for thee to climb ovver hills an daan dales, becoss thi limbs are limber--thanks to me for takkin care on thi as aw have done. It's miserable for me to caar ith' haase all bi misen, an thee wanderin abaat as tha does, an hardly ivver turns up except at meal times, an net allus then. If tha'd ha takken moor nooatice ov what aw've sed to thi i' years gooan by, we could ha been ridin in a carriage ov us own nah. It is'nt at aw've onny desire to show off, but aw think when fowk get to my age, an have tew'd as aw've done, they're ent.i.tled to some ease an comfort.

But aw suppooas aw'st nivver know what rest is until awm under th' sod."

"Aw think tha must ha been aitin summat 'at's disagreed wi thi, owd la.s.s, for tha's done nowt but grummel this last two-o'-three days. Tha caars i'th' haase too mich. Tha sees tha connot ride a bicycle, an tha'd hardly like to be seen ridin in a wheelbarro, or else awd trundle thee abaat for an hour or two ivvery day, an awr Hepsabah's peramberlater wod'nt hold thi, if it wod it ud find Jerrymier summat to do an keep him aght o' mischief. Then ther's plenty o' tram-cars, but tha allus says tha feels smoor'd when tha rides i' one o' them, soa awm fast what to do amang it."

"Dooant bother thisen.--Aw'st get a ride one o' theas days as far as th'

cemetary, an aw shall'nt hav long to wait unless things alter pretty sooin."

"Well, what wod ta advise me to do?"

"It's too lat on ith' day for thee to come to me for advice. Do thi own way, but when tha's lost me tha'll miss me,--mark that. Tha'll nivver find another to do for thi as aw've done."