Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 10, 1899.djvu/527

 Miscellanea. 485

" 'Tvvere but a step to her house, so says I to missus : ' Whoever do ee think it were? Why it were thic Mrs. Hart ! ' Says my son Joe — he were a sot there wi' mother — ' You be sure, feyther then, 'twere she as done it.' ' I'll have mother see the chile fust, afore I'll believe it,' says I. ' If thic chile be bad, I 'on't believe a word o' all this, but if the chile don't raly ail nothing, then there, I don't seem to know what I ool think.'

" Well, at that time the heart were real burned, and we draved is all up in the ashes till there wasn't nothing o' it to be zeed. So Joe, he went out, and I says : ' Mother, now you come along to pleesman's. I'll go wi' 'ee, for I d' want to satisfy my mind a bit. The house were quite handy, so she stepped out wi' me, nothing on ; but when we got there the lights was out, and Mrs. Hart she were abed. I called out as my missus were come to see the baaby as she'd a ast for her to do. Mrs. Hart came down to door in her night-gown and let me in. She was sort o' scared like, and said the baaby was asleep. But my missus, she went up along to see, and there were the pleesman in bed, and the baaby sweet asleep in along wi' un. And the pleesman, he zed : ' I telled our Harriet she were a fool, and there warn't nothing the matter, but she zed she 7tmst go.'

" So I sort o' felt queer and dazed like, and mother she looked about, a bit confounded, too, she were. And all at once I zeed a big splash o' cruddled milk on the floor, hard cruddle 'twere. And Mrs. Hart, she zeed I look, though I didn't say nothing. And she sort o'seemed naisy, and zed she'd a slopped a drop. But she hadn't never slopped thet ; 'twarn't nat'ral, and she knowed I didn't believe her.

" So we came on hwome and zed nothing about it. But the folk did zay a deal, and most on 'em zaid as she were the one. But I never believed nothing till my wife were took bad same as the cow. The doctor could do nothing for her, and she pitened away, poor soul, till she were most too weak to come to door ; and the boys and I, we never had a bit o' cooked victuals 'cause she couldn't get about to cook nothing. Oon day she veeled a trifle better, and zays : ' Mitchell, if you'll goo and bring in some pase and beans and things, I'll try an' cook 'ee a bit o' dinner.'

" So 'twere a beautiful hot day, an' I thought p'r'aps 't'ould do she a sight o' good to step out a bit in the sun. So I zays : ' You come along yourself, mother, and I'll dig a tatie or two and 'ee