Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 2, 1891.djvu/332

276 poor au'd mother ca'alled an' cried on 'un, an' swore 'at a cudna live wi'oot her on'y son, her babby, an' she a pore widder woman. But ne'er a tra'ace o' tha lad cud a fin'. Tha women tuk th' au'd mother ba'ack to th' cottage, an' tried to comfort her 'n hush her greetin'; but tha creetur tore awa'ay from un, loike a mad thing, an' rin back to th' Cars, an' 'gun ca'allin' 'n ca'allin' on her son, jist 's afore, to cum back to 's poor lone mother, 'n she a widow. Ower 'n ower agin a cried 'n wailed arter a' son, an' tha cud do nowt to hush a'. So tha mun le'ave her alo'an, fur tha cud fin' nowt o' tha lad, an' as th' da'ays went on th' fo'ak want to ther wo'k agin, an' th' boys as 'd follered Tom into th' ma'ashes crep aboot scared 'n whoite 'n tremlin', an' a'd amost think as iverythin' wor th' sa'ame as 'd bin afore, but Tom 'd niver coom back. An' noight arter noight thur wor a la'amp flarin' in th' winder o' th' cottage at th' lane en', an' th' au'd mother sat theer waitin' on her bo'oy, an' tha door stud open fro' tha darklins to tha dawnin'. An' ahl da'ay long, the au'd woman wan'ered aboot th' Cars, ca'allin' an' ca'allin' on her son to coom ba'ack, coom back to s' mother, 'n she a widder!

Tha foak wor sort o' skeered on her, an' 'd git oot o's wa'ay to let her go by, fur a flitted aboot loike wan o' th' bog things thersel's, a wor so grey 'n bent 'n wrinkled 'n sorrowful.

So tha da'ays want on, an' 'twor m' seventh even sence Tom 'd bin dra'agged into th' ma'ashes, when all to wanst jist afore th' da'arklins, th' fo'ak sa'anterin' by th' edge o' th' Cars, as a 'd took to doin' since th' lad 'd bin lost, well, th' fo'ak heerd a gre'at cry, 'n agean a great cry, so full o' wunner 'n joy, 'at it wor sort o' gruesome to ha'arken to 't. An' as tha stood waitin' an' wonnerin' tha seed tha au'd mother scurryin' along o' th' pad t'ords un, beckonin' 'n wavin' loike mad. 'Twor a bit skeery, but nath'eless, off tha went arter a, so fa'ast as ther bo'ans 'd tak 'um, oot into th' ma'ashes, an' oop to th' willer-snag, an' theer, while tha ca'ht oop wi' a, sat Long Tom, wi 's back agin