[From Manx Tales, Egbert Rydings 1895]
"ARE you theer, Mrs. Kelly, three ? Come in, woman, do; its a monne of Sundas sence I las' clap'd eyes on ye. Yes, I know, you've had maesles in the house, but that need's have kep' you. (Thought I would have been freckened.) Chut ! no, woman, mine have all done wis them alters sence.
" Yes, indeed, thee'r nasty t'ngs is maesles ; not for the pes' itself, which is bad enough in all conshus, when its among childhar, but the afthar-claps it laves is far wus- sore necks an' eyes, an' hapes of othar dirt it laves.
"Well, woman, I'm glad they've got the turn.
Here, take this sate in the ' chiollogh,' [ Hearth.] and I've gorrta mousful of ' coul tay,' as our Thobm calls it, in a boddle- not that I'm takis' any meeself, as you know, woman, bein' 'total-but our Thobm will hev a dhrop in the house case of bein' tuk sick in the night-not that he need be gerrin' up two or three times in the dead-of-night, and bitendin' his ches' is bad, and not more til a spoonful lef' in the mornin' of the pint I get quholesale from Williamson's. (Purrit in the chiss, and lock it, woman ?) Mrs. Kelly, you little knows our Thobm when he comes off the boose, if you hev no batthar plan to fix him til that.
"Why, dear heart, alive ! I'd hev more to pay to David for new locks til Robert for whisky in the twelve munses on your plan.
" No, theer's nawthin' but the turfs will keep our Thobm off the ques'-see (putting her hand among the heap of square turfs by the fire, and pulling out a black bottle) that's quhar I allis keeps it, as the shuper says, for immargencies-(immar)-oh ! you need'n be a 'ruptiri' me, I know -but here take this tit tas'e of the craythur in the cup an' a bistake; it'll do a tarrable lot of good afthar you bein' kep' in the house so long nussin' the childhar.
"Well, yes ; the' total I am in janneml, I'll take a timblful wis you for company's sake, not that I keer one farlin' for it, only for the win' in mee bres.
"And quhat's the news outside, Mrs. Kelly, chree ! [Dear-heart] did you hear any ?
"Lacks save us, woman ! you don't say so? (what ? Jenny-veg-Lezayre dead ! You don't say it, woman !
" You fair gimmee a turn an' a pain in nice ches' win the sudd'n it come on me. Gimme that boddle again, woman ; I feel faintish an' ready to dhrop win the shock it's gove mee.
" Dear heart alive, the chree ' a batthar woman til Jenny- veg navar stapp'd in shoe-lathar-and long hundards arrar- an' me that know'd her avar sence she come to this parish, an' married that dirt of a husband of hers, ' Herrin' an Pas'e,' as they calls him.
" Livin' at the 'Fifty,' the bose of us, an' goin' for years togathar to oul Jeremy Cowin's class at Ballacowin Chabal, an' tellin' me all her thrubbals wis that sleech of a husband of hers, an' blind Nan, his mothar. Poor sowl! poor sowl! the chree !
"And when is the berryin' tobe, woman?-( Wednesday!)- that's short, an' ony died to-day (Monday) ; but chut! quhat batthar can you expac' from that thrustha,[Dirt-vagabond] that's been a torment arrar avar sence he clap'd eyes on her, an' gib'n her no batthar life til the life' of a dog, an' her worse ten-t'ousan' of the laaks of him ?
"It makes me blood run cowl ebery time I tiaks of him, an' the ill-usage of that poor sovl ! poor sowl ! !
" I can't really belave it! an' her and me all the time such friends, laak two sesthars jus', and tellin' everytin' to me. (Where did ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' live, and what was he before he came to the Glen ?)
" I'll tell you, woman, all aburrim, and it's me that know'd the thrustha from a lump, and sarvin' his time for a cobbler at the same place as our Bill that's now in Califurnia, an' a fortune done arrim.
"Well, James Cowin-sometimes Jemony Cowin-that's his propar name tho' navar calt-lib'd on Ballacowin, an' was a cobbler, as I have said, an' lurnt, as the sayin' is, at oul Thobm Cowla's on the Beach.
" Quhen he had sarved his time, oul Thobm gevvim a pair of the biggest an' far wornest las'es he had in his shop, an' sent ' Herrin' an' Pas'e ' out into the worl' as puffec' a work- man as oul Thobm could make him.
" ' But,' said oul Thobm, quhen the boy-bogh [Poor simpleton] had lef the street wis all his belongin's tied in a red pockad hank'cher, 'if all the larnin' of all the shoemakers in creation, from Adam downwards, could be shot into " Herrin'- an' Pas'e's " head, lek shutin' Jack into a houl of a vassil on the quay, he'd navar be a shoemaker, no navar, navar-it is'n in him, Jonny Kelay, an' quhat is'n in a falla you cant gerurrov him, eh ? not laakly.' (Navar heard that Adam was a shoemaker, or wore shoes even ?)
"Mrs. Kelly bog h, theer's hapes of t'ings you navar hard -I've allis 'lowed you to be batthar til me pronunchin, but quhen it comes to scripthur pints-me that's sat lek at the fut of (We've heard that before.)
" Yes, my gough ! an' ye shall. Look here, woman ; you'll be, no doubt, 'lowin' the fig-laves mus' hev been stitch'd, an', quhat more, natheral an' handy till a brizzle an' a wax end bein' all theer to the fore ? Chut ! this cotton they hab now would navar houl'.
" An would you expec' now, may I as'? the man to be- goin' mashin' among torns an' briars in his stoc'kan feet ?
" Not laakly !
" I wouldn' thrus now but they wore ' carraneyn ' [ Shoes of imtauned hide],. in them, days, lek the oul' Manx people ; an' its lek as not the fus' Manx was gerrin' the patharn from them-quhare else, eh ?
" Now, wis this slight digestion, as the shupar says-. (Diges-chut!) Come, that will do, woman-shut up! You can't get the tongue round it more til me, an' we will perceed wis the story, as the man said.
"This was the for the by-name of 'Herrin' an' Pas'e' was. purr on him, an' it will go wis him to the day of his dea's.
" Any stra'njar, cõmin' to Laxa as'in for ' James Cowin,' as you know, woman, it's laak as not he'd be sent to Ballaragh, half-way to Ramsa jus', or up to Snavel, or mayve to Glun-Roy an ' Chibbyr Plierrick,' theer's so many wis that name arram.
" But, if he as'd for ' Herrin' in' Pas'e,' he would be toul' laak a shot he lib'd in a t'atch house overside of the 'Fifty.'
" And this is the for he got the name arrim of 'Herrin' an' Pas'e'-Jemony bein' tuk for a swell, as a young falla did'n navar weer to weer the usual blue apern; but, it was'n altogather that nethar-Jemony, as everyborry knew, was morthal lazy, an' for the life of him (as you may say couldn' sit on his cobbler's stool for two hours han'-runnin'.
" He mus' go a dozen times a day to see how John-Beg was gerrin' on wis the fishin', an' to the quay to see if the ' Chieftain' was loaded an' ready for sea.
" And as everyborry can see, woman, wis half an eye, it would navar do for Jemony to wear a brat an' to take it off every time he went out.
"Beside-chut ! quhat are you talkin' about? Oul Thobm would have tuk notice if he was seein'the brat comin' off, but navar the bit of it, not him.
" 'Jus' round' the gable, that's all,' he would say, when quashthant.
" Well, wis navar habin' no brat on nor the smallest tas'e of a pockad hank'cher arrim, mus', of coorse, use his breeches to wipe his finghars quhen he had them in the pas'e-horn afthar purrin' it on the shoe ; and, as oul Dan Kermode said, 'the boy-bogh's breeches was as glazed in' slibby as a slide the 'mob-beb' makes in fros';' and, of coorse, woman, the sem bad to sarve quhen he had e't his herrin', which was at las'e three times a day.
" So, when Jemony come to the fire, oul Thobm used to say-' Thou smells as sthrong, both, of herriu' an' pas'e as Crellin's curein-house on the souse Quay.'
" So this was the for he was gerrin' the name on him of ' Herrin' an' Pas'e.'
" He lib'd up at the Ballacowin in an oul t'atch cottage pas' the 'Fifty,' wis his oul blind mothar, 70, if a day, but oncommon smart at that-could go about wis the stick arrar, an' feedin' an oul sow that was kep' at them, an' fowlses by the scoore, batthar till many a woman I know wis two pair of eyes arrar.
" The house 'vided in two halves wis boards, and the parl'our side, as you may say, wheer the beds was, was parted wis a streng across and an oul bed-quilt hung. It was not very clane. (The bed-quilt ?) Chut ! no, boderation ! the house I mane.
" But, no one could expec', on'y an oul blin' woman theer, and the sow comin' in, an' fowlses, an' three or four cluckey hens hatchin' undhar the beds, and a clay floor. It was rather dampish too at times, special quhen floods on the road, an' the water quashin' thro' the kitchen, burr a tilt in the floor, an' airy to run out at the back door.
" But the oal woman could always tell when the flood was comin' by the ducks, an' aisy to gerr on the table or on a cheer til it had washed thro', an' no feer if it did'n come quhen the fowls was a hatchin'. It's then the jeeyl would be, and a matthar of two or three scoore eggs would be rottan, and no arly chickans for the ' cottonies,' [Visitors] lerr alone, woman, the hens that would be washed down into Ballacowin ravar, which I had seen times wis mee own eyes when I lib'd at the Fifty.'
" Well, I 'member, woman, the ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' gore an order from Thobm Spatch to make him a new pair of shoes.
" ' Lerram be' beg enough an heaby,' said Thobm, ' I'm t'inkin' of goin' nex' week to Snavl [Snaefel] turf-lag, an' mus' hag them by Satada' night at latest.'
" This was T'ursda, the day afthar he lef' oul Thobm Cowla's ; and the ' Herrin' tuk the measure wis a foot-rule an' a piece of in oul sheep-lankat.
" Of coorse, woman, he had'a everytin in full workin' order yet, no one could expec' that, burr a three-legged stool was arrim, and his awls, brizzles, pas'e, an' wax, an' the las'es oul Thobm was gibbin him in a meddha [Small tub with one handle] on the floor by his side all quite pat, as the man said.
"By Frida night the 'Herrin' had his fus' shoe done arrim, an' purr on the lat', and knew it would be quite 'asy to do the othar by Satada' everin ; and had'n he time ' thallure ?'[Enough] an' no goin' down to oul Laxa now; he could lie in bed far on the day, an' work later at night ; and that's quhat he done. The clock finghars was stand'n on the minutes of eleben quhen he gorr up.
" His mother, of coorse, had been up hours and hours. Old Nan was allis up 'arly, as theer was hapes of kiartaghs [business] to do in the mornin' part of the day.
" Quhen the ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' had done his breakfas', an' gib'n a las' wipe to his herrin' han' on his breeches an coat- sleabes, he serrat his work ' like a giant new-made,' as the Bible says.
" But lo! an' behoul' ye ! quhen he look'd in his meddha, wheer he lef' it on the floor the everin' before, not the smalles' tas'e of wax could he fin', and his pas'e was all'et at them ' blas'ed' fowlses ; an" quhere is that las ? confoun' it ! not a sight of it to be seen.'
"His mothar said muc-arkagh [sow-pig] had been in, and as lek as not had tak'n it out arrar ; an' it was his own doin', an' he would'n knock up a bit of a sty for her ; aud the brute hed tuk an' e't alive ony las' week a sittin'-hen, eggs an all, an' sarve him right for the slack he was if it had gorr his las.'
" Quhen the 'Herrin" gorr outside he foun' the sow crunchin' the las', and half e't arrar ; an' gib'n her a t'undrin' kick, he lef' her to finish, an' went an' tuk the las' from the shoe on the lat', in' made some more wax, quhile the mothar, to pacer-fy him, made some new pas'e, ali by workin' late he gorr his fus' pair of shoes done an' tuk to Thobm Spatch at Amagarry.
" ' Les' try them on,' said Thobm. ' Theer look'n quhere, boy,' tryin' one on.
" ' That's middlin' la', beg enough for all.' Then trying the othar on- " ' Chut ! quhat's this? Can't sweeze me fut in-quhy you stuped blockhad, you've made them bose for one fut, an' the lace tags a full inch more to one side til the middle, laak a falla wis a crooked mous' arrim.'
" An' wis this he flung them at ' Herrin' an' Pas'e,' jus missin' his head.
" These was the fus' an las' pair of shoes that 'Herrin' an Pas'e' ever 'tempt'd to make. He was goin' roun' on the farmers, mendin', patchin', an' solein', but navar a new pair done arrim afther that. (How did he come across Jenny- veg, did you say, Mrs. Kelly ?)
" Well, I'll tell you, woman, all aburrit ; but wait till I'll be puttin' a junk or two of turf on the fire, an' liffln' this pot of spuds on the slowree,[Hook-hanger over the fire] so the dinner will be gerrin' on by the time our Thobm comes from Snavel turf-lag.
" Now, then, I can perceed quite comfabl when that's done at me.
"Well, I 'member quite well the fus'time the ' Herrin' an Pas'e' met Jenny-veg.
" I was stayin' for a sarvent at oul Jemmy Cowin's at Ballacowin, an' bein' a late harves'-it was the beginnin' of October before we tuk the 'Mheillea' [Harvest-home] -You know woman them high lan's are allis late.
"I've known Jonny Baldhoon wis stooks out at Crissimas, but we were navar so late as that come to.
" Well, I min' as if it was on'y yestharday gone pas', an' its 40 year ,jus', if a day, ' Herrin" an' me was in the same butt.
"Of coorse, we was cuttin' wis sickles yandhar, an' quhen the 'Mheillea' was cut at me oul Jemmy would navar let noborry but me cut it.
" I 'member I was bringin' the stook undhar me arrim, an' the othar gels follarin' wis junks of cushags [Ragwort] in theer han's, when that sleech of a ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' com'pt behin' me and purr his arrim roun' me neck an' tried to kiss mee.
"I ups wis mee fis', woman, and lerrim have it in the mous, an' knocked the riblas [Vagabond] down.
"My gough ! to be kiss wis that big ugly moos, wis thombargar spit allis rennin' out an' dhroppin' at his chin, was fit to turn a gel's stomach.
"But he navar 'tempted to kiss me afthar that, I can tell you, woman.
" Quhen the 'Mheillea' supper was done arrus that night, I min', quhen the boys an' gels was lavin' the house, the masthar cault ' Herrin' in' Pas'e' back into the kitchen, an' ases him if he would min' tak'n the hoss an' cart wis hafe a dozen fat sheep to sell for him 'arly in the mornin' to Michalmas Feer, the day follain' bein' the 10th October, an' the Feer-day at Kuk Michael.
"The masthar said he couldn' go himself, as the wathar was very brickle, an' was anxious to get the corn in, an' couldn' loose a day.
" Of coorse, woman, the 'Herrin" jumped at the offar, but said he had'n got no clo's that was fit.
"But, the misthress ups at once an' toavl me to run up to the chiss on the parlor laf, an' get the masthar's sackon' bes' black clo's chute, she was s'ure it would fit to a T.
" Whuch I done, an' brought down, au' he tried the jackad an' was'put on, an' fitted fus'-rate, 'cept the collar, Whuch covered his ears, Whuch the misthress said would do fus'-rate wis a big mufflar roun' his neck; and the masthar said the sheep was in the haggat ready, an' 'put planty of straw in the cart an' come 'arly.'
"I 'member quite well I was in the cowhus' quhen he was laebin the street, an' he come in an' tried to coax me to go wis him to the Feer. (Of course you said yes?) Mrs. Kelly, how dar' you? and me that gib him the jap on the mous not more til two hours gone. No, not if theer warn' another falla lef' in the quhole I'lan', I wouldn' have gone wis yandhar fritlag.[Rag-worthless fellow]
"The mornin' follerin' he come 'arly enough, and was away ober the mountains wis the hoss and cart before we gorr up. Quhat I am goro' to tell you now the 'Jenny-veg' herself toul' me times and times.
"It was at this Michaelmas Feer that Jemry fus' pull ap wis the dirt, an' be put the guiybogh [Poor goose-Put the guiybogh on = bring to grief] on her, bad cess to him, an' was' luck to her, as the man said.
"Jenny and another gel, her fren', was on the Feer-groun' pritty 'arly, an' saw the ' Herrin' art' Pas'e' dribe on the Feer-groun' wis the cart, an' quhen she saw him, she toavl' me she said to the gel that was wis her, 'That's a "local,'' see the nice black clo's that's arrim.'
"You mus' know, woman, Jenny was tarrable mad on the 'locals,' bein' from a lump of a gel on the 'class-book,' and. navar missin' her quarterly tiggad. And she went roun' the tills of the cart to see the name, which was, 'James Cowin, Ballacowin, Lonan, No. 2.' The 'Herrin an' Pas'e' hadn' been a crack on the feer before he had sowl the sheep, an' quhen the bargin' was done arrim, an' the man who had bought them-which she knew-was dribin them off the feer, she as'ed him, quite innercent lek, who did he buy the sheep from, and the man said, 'From Jemmy Cowin, the local praechar from Kil Lonan, and a smart falla he is for dribin a barga'n an' no mistake.' Well, her an' the gel, she toul' me, went into a tent, an' no sooner were they in til the falla in nice black clo's come in afthar them, an' nawthin' would sarve but a feerin' mus' be bought for the bose of them, an' theer pockads fill'd wis turkey-nobs, gingar-snaps, an' crackers, an' a quhole han'ful of silber urrov his pockad lek a shot to pay for them, an' 'would they have a glass of wine an' a bistake, an' he would ordhar denmar for them at the ' Mithar,' an' rattlin' aul' Jemmy's sheep money in his pockad laak a lord lek. But the gels wouldn' ; but they mus' go, for all, the roun' of the feer wis him, he said, he wanted to buy a couple of haffars an' a good meer, if he could fin' them to his laakin'. And roam' the Feer they went, the ' Herrin' and Pas'e' grabbin houl' of the eldharr of every bas'e he come to, an' lookin' in all the hosses mouses, an' the han'ful of silber out lek i shot, an' would they take arness ? [Earnest-money] but makin' sure the price was low enough, an not tuk, an' makin' the gels belive he was goin' to buy all the cattle in the Feer.
" Quhen the two gels, she toul' me, was ready to start for home,, he comme up an' said he was too, not bein' able to get the cattle he wanted, an' he would put the hoss in the tills, and, as he was goin' theer way, at las'e as far as Sulby Street, he would give them a lef' in the cart, there was nice clane straw for the feet, and they would be nice and comf'ble.
" The gels, of coorse, was glad of a lif', bein' tired wis the long walk from Lezayre, an' dhraggin' about the Feer all day, which is more tirin' still, an' more 'special habin' such a nice jintale young man wis them, and everybory lookin' at them as they druv' through the village, Jenny sirrin' nes' him on the sideboard, which was tuk urrov the cart an' laid across the box, an' plenty of straw for the feet. And Jenny the bogh, tarrable proud ; and as'n him quasthints about the chabbal ones at Kil Lonan; an' did he lek the new district Shuper, the Rev W. T. Ratcliffe, an' was proud to say he was from theer parish, and did he laak ' Craine the Glack'? And the craf' of the 'Herrin an' Pas'e,' seein' whuch way the win' wris blowin', wis this smart gel at his side, ansart accordint-ly. Yes, he laaked the Shuper middlin', he was very soun', batt,tor all theer wasn' enough go in him to his laakin'; he wanted a falla in the pulfitt that could lay on fire an' brimstone, an' bring convarts to theer knees at the panitant furrim, that was the sort for him, if theer was dep's at the bottom. 'Craine the Glack' he didn' keer much. for, his dishcoorses no dep's in. them, he laaked a falla wis plenty of dep's arrim; he wanted mate in a sarmon, not cabbage an' win', sometin' to chew. Gib'im dep's-dep's-no mathar how deep, it couldn' be too deep for him, he could follar to the lowes'. And so the convarsation went on betwix' them two, the other gel lerrin them hev' it to theerselves, and, before they puk up at Ballaugh Street, she ventur'd to as'e him if he was on the plan, but 'wouldn' trus' it would be 'plan-beg,' [little plan] bein' young.'
" 'No, Miss,' he said. You mus' know, Mrs. Kelly, the ' Herrin" could be perlite in' gran' yandhar times quhen it was lek to sarve his ends. 'I have the honour, Miss, to have my name enrolled on the ' plan-more,'[big plan]- and am proud to be able to testerfy to my dear Lord and Masthar-aw-hum- an' middlin' high up, too.'
(Never knew that he ever was oft the plan, or ever went to church, or chapel ?) " Chut ! woman, no more he was, burr a pack of lies arrim from beginnin' to end ; but seein' the gel so mad on the ' locals,' he knew this mus' be the way to shute his own ends, an' his name bein' Jemmy Cowin, but call't ' Jemony' for short (when not ' Herrin' an' Pas'e'), the same exac' as the masthar's, but no 'lation whatavar. But libin' on Ballacowin, it was aisy to mistake the two.
" Quhen they gorr on Ballaugh Street, he puk up at the ' Nors Star' Inn, an' said the hoss mus' gerra drink, and would the young ladies, his fair friends, take a glass of wine and a biscake? an' bittended to talk laak a 'cottonie' lek.
"But the bose of them bein' 'total,' and in 'class,' wouldn', but a boddle of pop aech in the cart ; and before goin' in hisself into the 'Hors Star,' she toul' me, he went into a shop and bought a quhole hape of papparmin' lozzanjars, gibbin some to aech of them, an' purrin' the res' in his pockad.
He was in the house a mortal long time the gels thought, an' was jus' gerrin' ober the tills of the cart to walk, quhen he comes runnin' out, wipin' his mous on his black coat- sleabe, and champin' laak a crushin mill a beg mous'ful of lozzanjars, an' none too studdy nithar on his legs for a 'local,' but bein' Feer day, "lowances mus' be made,' she thought.
"Qnhen they gorrat the 'Genjar,' [Ginger Hall name of a public house] the other gel gorr out, as she lib'd on the 'claddagh,' an' Jenny was gerrin' out, too, but he grips an' held her on the sate, tellin' her that he was goin' that way to call at Dan Cormode's to look at a prize haffar, which he had tuk a notion to buy if money would gerrar, and Jenny, the cowl, bein' nawthin' loath, an' rather proud bein' seen ridin' through theer own parish vis such a gintale young man arrar, and a well-known 'local,' but she did rather wonder to herself the hoss should be so t'irsty, an' on'y comin' from Ballaugh; for herself no, she wouldn' hev allothar boddle of pop, nor genjar-snap nither, which he coax her to an' the othar gel on her labin' them 'oie vie.'[good night] " He turnt the hoss at the 'Genjar,' and went back over the bridge an' through the ' Curraghs,' and, before they gorrat Andhris village the sly dog of a ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' had gorr urrov the gel that her uncle Bob, who had died on'y twelve munse gone by in America, had lef' her £300, which was in Dumbl's, [Manx Bank] an' all to the fore, every penny an' intres'. That there was on'y herself an' the mothar libin' on theer own craf' of eight acres an' the right of a turf-lag near to, and one cow at them, and a haffar they were feedin' for the butchar. " Her father dyin' two years before, bein' hisself a ' local,' and the mothar an' the gel bose of them, on the dea's-bed, hed to take a bible oas that the gel would navar marry an unconvarted man, but a 'local' if pozzib'l. 'The " jeeyl " [damage] he had seen done wis the Lord's people marryin' inferdhals was the for he had made them take the solum oas, and he could die quite happy now,' which he done before the nex' mornin' bruk, an' all the people in the parish jus' at the funarall, an' hapes of 'locals' from othar parishes, an' was buried at Andhris church-yard.
"This is quhat Jenny-Beg, the cowl! toul' me he gorr urroe her before they puk up at her street gate, and very 'ticlar to ase if theer was a bond or fromigary-note on the place, and hed the mothar made a will? an' as laak as not she would be gerrin oul, an' nobody but herself lek to come in, an' no gurgians [Guardians] to come botharin' roan' an' the lek to that ' fud -y-cheilley;' [confusion] it was hateful, didn' she tink, eh ? (Its a wonder she'd tell all.) Well, Mrs. Kelly, bogh, you didn know poor Jenny-veg lek me, or you Avouldn' woudhar at all at all.
" She was as innercent as a chil', and as open as the day, as the man said, and navar no suspigion, but as open as a piece of lookin'-glass, as the sayin is.
" Quhen they gorrat the house nawthin' mus' sarve but he mus' take the hoss urroe the tills, an' purrit it in the empty stall in the cowhus, and come in and hev tay. Which was a nice t'atch house, wis 'bent' for straw, which lases longer, and as nice an' eben on the top as a beehive; parla on one side, an' kitchen, wis a roomy back kitchen an' dairy, behint; and, up-stairs lafs to match, and the cowhus, and turf, and pryddha [potato] houses on the haggat a trifle off, and a mortal nice place it was, I can tell you, woman, bein' theer times an' times wis Jenny quhen she come to our parish, and the thrammon-tree [Elder] at the gable, right up to the chimbley, and a lil garden in front, wis holly-docks an' sithar-wood an' roses that high that they darkened the bedroom windows, and the lasee tas'e would the out' woman 'low to be cut, an' that sweet smellin' in the rooms in summer-time you wouldn' belave.
"Well, the oul' woman-Jenny's mothar-Jenny toul'me- was as much tuk wis the 'boy-bogh' at fus' as Jenny herself, and special quhen she hard he was a ' local,' and full of duasthants about the Kil Lonan ones on the plan she had hard tell of but didn' know.
" Harry Cubb'n, who hed fus-rate Manx arrim, an' couldn' be bet, an' a tarrable powerful praechar in the Manx. But quhen he come to the house at fus', she toul' me she t'ought it tarrable quhare he should be again champin' another mousful of lozzanjars ! Chut ! woman, was'n it to kill his bres, as he t'ought ?
" Mrs. Kelly, woman, arn't these men deep ?
" Our Thobm used to do that at fus' quhen we were married-quhen he tuk on the sly three or four glasses of whiskey, he would, as sure's you're alive, gerr a pennus of mints an' champ them up before he gorr home to dead'n his bres, as he t'ought.
"But, Mrs. Kelly, I was intarmint to purr a stoppar on that. ' Look heer ! Thobm,' says I, 'the smell of a whiskey bres is hateful in all conscious, but quhen it comes to mix'n it wis mints, it's ten tousan' times wus, and wus far til onions. Less hab one at a time, but, my-gough ! for heavern's sake don't navar again 'temp to mix them!'
An' he navar done afthar that. Mrs. Kelly, woman, you'll 'sense me, won't you now? but the way I'm goin' ramblin' in mee tale is somet'in shoc'kan, is'n it now? "Well, raelly, I mus' puk mee self up, or I'll navar get to the end.
" Well, afthar that they serrat the tay, and a long grace done at this herpocrite-an' jam an' pisaves, an' honey an' chees, an' barley bread, aw lashins, bless ye ! an' the ' sleech' talkin' to them about the two par of hosses he'd got, an' the twelve milkin' cows he hed, an' the hun'ards of sheep on the perk,[Park-mountain pasture] an' the poun's of butthar he tuk ebery Satada' to Dhoolish market, but keer Took care himself] his-selp to stan' wis the baskag, and not to thrus the gels; and if he hed a nice smart wife now, 'how much batthar it would be, eh! mum?'
" And the oul' woman agree in wis him to the full, and Jenny delighted too ; and the 80 acres of lan' he was heir to, an' a couple of hun'ards of acres of perk-lan' for sheep and young cattle, and norra farlin' of a mortgage on it. (Well done the 'Herring!' Why didn't he lash in the whole parish while he was at it?)
"You may say so, woman-the ordashus rascal ! A jap in the mous he should hev got. But know'n, as he done, these craythurs knew no more about Kil Lonan til they know'd aburt Jaricho, a few hun'ards of acres and a dozen cows or so was nithar here nor theer, as the man said.
" Well, they talked on an' on for aver so, as Jenny toul' me, til the oul' woman said it was her bed time, an' was gerrin' ready to 'fly-up,' as the man said, quhen the ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' said it was allis his praxis to finish the day at the Throne of Grace, and would they objet' to a mousful of prayer whuch he would offer ?-whuch he done- 'an' the blessin' the baskag an' store, an' the prosperity of this humble houshol',' whuch Jenny t'ought was a tarrable shockan good prayer. But the mothar, who, of coorse, knew more, t'ought he tivas gerrin' tarrable fnd-y-cheilly,[confused] an' all-through othars, before he gorret the end ; but, bein' young and nervous, it was no wondhar; and she lef' them, and went to bed quite content, bein' a 'local' and a prayin' man.
"Jenny toul' me she was rather tuk aback at the raggin' an' sweezin' a 'local' would attemp' quhen he hed blow'd the candle out, an' they were bose sittin' on the seddle. But she t'ought, bein' lek feer night, and, as she said, she knew 'the flesh was willin', but the spirit '-chut ! bodderation how does it go, Mrs. Kelly? (What ? One that's sat at the foot '-- ?)
" Don't be mock'n, woman, its shoc'kn ; and, if you don't know, lerrit alone, all' let's come back to the tale, an' don't be aver-lasin' 'ruptin' me, or I won't go on-theer now ! Shut up, woman, an' let's perceed wis the tex, as the shuper says.
" Well, quhare was I ? you've knock'd mee thro-othars laak a tangled skein-aw ! I've gorrit, I've gorrit, you need'n.
" Well, he stav'd on wis the gel mos' of the night-as you know, woman, was usual them times-an' as it was'n no use, he said, goin' to Dan Comode's to buy the prize haffar so far on the night, he would pelt the hoss in the tills, an' go to Kil Lonan roun' by Ramsa', an' would come again maybe nex' week to purra sight on her an' the haffar at the same time, whuch he done. ( Which did he do ?)
"'Ruptin' again, stupid ! can't you undherstan'?-went home, of coorse, didn' I say so ? and gorr home on the Balla- cowin Street quhen we were at breakfass, wis three half- crowns gone urrov the sheep money, whuch he said he had los' urrov a hole in his pockhad, whuch was all lies, as I turnt out the pockhads when the clothes come back, an' were right, an' not the las'e tas'e of a hole in any of them.
" The masthar was tarrable mad, an' would stop the money a shillin' a time urrov every pair of shoes he would sole for them till it was paid, which was navar all paid to this blessed day, as the sayin' is.
Howl on, woman, now, before I perceed. I'll jus' gerra ' warp '[three] of herrins urrov pickle an' put them in the pot wis the spuds, so they'll be doin' quhile I tells you the res'.
Now, then, let's see quhare we were, woman.
(He got home from the Fair, and never paid all the sheep money.)
"Right you are, Mrs. Kelly, bogh, you've gorra head lek an almanac, as our Thobm says, for 'membrin'.
" The nex' time he went ober to Lezayre to see her afthar the Feer day you min', was 'on this wise,' as our respected Shupar says. It was on a Sunda', I min', aburrti couple of weeks afthar the Feer. On the Satada' before we hed a cow tuk bad boosely, an' Thobm Spatch was calt in, and his 'pingion was to send off to 'Ballayockey' at once for harbs.
" The masthar was on the plan that Sunde,' for Ballaraugh. You mus' know, woman, oul Jemmy Cowin would naber miss his 'pintment on the plan, no matthar come quhat would,. theer he mus' be, an' I belave in mee heart if the wife had been lyin' in the sheets, go he would. Not laak these 'boy- boghs' of fallas now on the plan, if the lil finghar aches, or they 'neezes twice han' ruruin', its a 'scuse to miss theer 'pintment.
" Well, the cow was tarrable bad, tirra massy, when the- everin' was closin' in, and out Tbobm had gibn' it as his 'pingion that nawthin' but Ballayockey harbs would gib the craythur aise, so the 'Herrin' an' Pas'e' was calt, and would he take the hoss 'arty in the mornin', and ride ober to Ballayockey ? The craythur n,as in agarness, [agonies] an' be sure to hurry back. The saddle and bridle was in the cowhus laff, [loft] and the misthress said he could get the clo's as before, but min' an.' not mess an' muck them as he did on the feer-day. (Had he no Sunday clothes of his own ?) Lauk sabe us alibe, woman! Him hab Sunda' clo's? He navar in his life had as much money sabed as would genrim two pockhad hank'chers, lerralono a shute of clo's, but spend'n it constant. laak flitthars lek ebery farlin' as he gorrit, at the 'John Joseys.'
"Well, he went to the cowhus to get the saddle and bridle, but the rats had cut the starrup lathars, burr he said he would take them home an' fix it, and the masthar said, as he would be off 'arly, he would gibbim the money for Balla- yockey, and a'shillin' for himself, which I knew was stupid on his part, but didn' say nawthin', as the man said, but lerrim.
"In the mornin', quhen I went to the cowhus to gib a sap to the cows, behowl' ye ! the hoss was still in the stall, an' the falla hed navar gone. I come, I 'member, an' toul' the masthar, who was tarrable mad, and for me to go down at once and see quhat was up wis the falla, which I done. And, you know, woman, theer house was on the Ballacowin, and on'y a field from ours. I went at once, and when I ot wisin forty yards of the house, Sunda' as it was, I hard a tremenjous pankin wis a hommar on a lap-stone, an' I open the door quick lek an' went in, and behowl' ye ! mee fine falla was hommerin' away laak mad at the starrups, whuch he hed navar touch'd the night before, burr, as oul' Nan said, 'It was Jemmy Cowin's fault for gibin' him the shillin,"cause it burnt a hole in his pockhad, an' wouldn 'take res' till he gorrit it in his guts, and come home at the dead of night as drunk as McKellya, and that was the for he had to fix the starrups this mornin', and for massey's sake don't tell the Ballacowin,' or we'll navar hear the las' of it, the whuch I promis' faisful if he'd on'y be slibby an' gerr off ober the mountains, whuch he done, and the masthar navar knew.
"Burt the decatefal herpocrite an' 'riblas,'[scamp] it makes nice blood run cowl' quhen I tinks of the way he blaguarded an' almos' cusst poor 'Bob Alone' for doin' the sem ting in his innercence what he himself had been doin' not more til in hour gone in cowl' blood. ( What was that about 'Bob Alone'?) Well, it was this way-and Bob, poor falla, towl' me hisself all aburrit it the time-Quhen the ' Herrin' an Pas'e' was ridin' roun' Snavl mountain laak a lord lek, in Jenïmy Cowin's black clo's all to the full, as the man said, he come upon 'Bob Alone' wis the cart and hoss, and one of the tills bruk arrim, and the cart half full of turf lyin' on its side in the ditch, an' poor Bob standin' in the middle of the road houlin' the bosse's head an' shoutin', 'Massey on us! quhat's come on the brute? The collaugh [Male of animals] navar lifted heel before !'
"'Hullo!' says the 'Herrin' an' Pas'e,' and puks up the hoss, 'quhat's this? Dessicatin' the Lord's day, an' workin' on the Sabas,' and quhare did he expec' to go quhen he died, an' wasn' he ashamed to be breakin' God's holy commands, and his ox, an' his ass, an' his hoss, and wasn' he freckened that the divvle would lay houl' of hin theer an' then, an' make a 'sample of him for his great sin ? And on he went lek that for avar so. I 'spose, woman, Jemmy Cowin's black praechin' clo's hed gorr in the blood, an' that's the for it come out.
" But quhen poor 'Bob Alone,' the sowl, knew it was Sunda', he jus' tuk his hoss by the lines, and as the hose went towards Keppal-gate Road, he said, 'I've miss'd a notch, I've miss'd a notch. I'm bery sorry; 'deed I am !
'deed I am!' (What did he mean ?) Quhy, woman, this chap libin' up near the top of ' Mullaghouyr' of coorse navar saw no one from week in to week out, and, as he towl' me, he could on'y keep count of the days as they pas' by cuttin' a notch on the back ob the seddel. He had miss'd a notch that week someway, and t'ought it was Satada', and that's the for he come out wis the cart an' hoss. Bob, poor sowl, would jus' as soon have tuk an' e't his head, as the sayin' is, as come out wis the hoss an' cart if he had know'd it was Sunda'.
"Well, that divvle-possest herpocrite ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' (God forgib me for sayin' so; but it fair makes me mad to this day quhen I tinks of the 'riblas') rode on to Kuk Andhris, and as Jenny towl' me aburrit it times, don't I know meself all aburrit? purr up his hoss in theer cowhus'
as usual, an' went on to Ballayockey at once for the harbs, but didn' make has'e back as the matthar had toul' him, "deed no,' as the millar says, "deed no.'
"He keer'd nawthin' for the cow dead or alibe quhen he got theer, but stayed wis Jenny an' the mothar all day, braggin' urrov the heavy crops he hed saved, art' all undhar t'atch, and would trash ten boll to the acre at the very las'e, an' spuds an' turmit crops was heavy scan'lous urra massy, and t'ankful to the good Lord his bountiful providence, and £100 would be paid to Dumbl' afthar all expanse paid, to the res', whuch, wis intres', would 'mount to long hun'ards, an' wouldn' trus' to a couple of t'ousands, but hedn' seen the bank- book lately, but mus' gerrit made up, an' look afthar quhen he got the haggat a bit tidy. And did they know anybory that was in want of a trifle of a t'ousand or two on mortgage.? Good lan' s'curity he mus' have ; he didn' care to purrit on house proppity at-all at-all. Dhoolish buildhars had been arrim times, but didn' laak their s'curity, he couldn' tros' stones an' morthar, but lan' was quhat he wanted that couldn' run away, an' quheer you would nab sometin' to look at for your money. Aye, man, of coorse.
" And this was the bhragg Jenny toul' me he had the quhole day to the mothar art' her, an' how his fathar an' mothar was gerrin out, an' hed lef' eberytin' to him, an' sole management. (Always understood old Tan was left a grass widow when 'Herrin' an' Pas'e' was a lump [small boy].) Of coorse, woman, but don't you see? quhen he was fair afloat on his lies-t'ousands in the bank, an' a father or two heer an' theer didn' matthar one farlin's worse [worth] quhen he was arrit- quhy should it, eh?
" And the fathar an' mothar wantin' him to marry the Ballacraga gel, which was an heiress, an' a furrim arrar an' long t'ousan's, but he didn' keen for her, as she wasn' in ' class ' an' onconvarted, an' gnus' hat one of that surt. (Well ?) Chut ! don't be 'ruptin', woman, you know what I mane-not one of his surt. Tell, the upshot tivas, as she towl' me times, before the day was done she hed promis' to marry him in a monse time. (Its a wonder she would consent so soon, and took driving with that 'joeagh-eig' [flat beer - miserable fellow]!) Chut! woman, its my pingion he got some of his mothar's-oul' Nan's--harbs an' dirt an' put the 'butch' [witchcraft - charm] on her. Besides all to that, hlrs. Kelly, woman, in weddin's its laak Johnny Hogg said in sellin' his wool-'You navar know for sartin if you are gerrin' up too 'arly, or lyin' too far on the day'- Howavar, he said, for heaven's sake not to breas a word to anyone ; if it got to his fathar an' mochar's ears, it would play the very mischief wis him, and maybe stop the weddin'. But tings would come right afthar they were married, an' he tuk her home. And she an' the mothar done so. (Done what ?) Done quhat, indeed ! Why, of coorse, stupid, ruptin' cons'ant, done quhat he toul' them, shut theer mouses, as you should do, and not be clack-clackin' avar- las'in', an' snappin' lauk a 'juish' [shears], as the man said.
"That night before he come away he went wis the mothar an' her to the Lhen Chabbal everin' sarv ace, and, bein' a revival goin' they stopped at the afthar prayer-meetin', and ' would Brother Cowin engage', and he went arrit full belt, hammerin' the furrim, an' makro' up in nise quhat was wantin' in sanse, but everybory bein' full of 'citement, an' shoutin' out as loud as hisself, it didn' much matthar quhat he done, as nobory tuk much heed, so theer was nise enough an' groans to match. But Jenny, poor sovl ! t'ought it a 'strawnary prayer for the 'casion, an' the amens which follow'd plased Jenny, the bogh, shockn'.
"He gorr home, I 'member, on Ballacowin Street as the clock was strikin' eleben. Thobm Spatch had been waitin' hours for the harbs, as the cow was still tarrable bad, ,in' the masthar was jawin' boosly enough tit the 'Herrin" bein' so late, but tuk it aisy bein' Sunda', and I 'membar I boiled the harbs in a quart of jough [ale] in' pappar, an' was gib to the cow, which was all right in the mornin'.
" Wait, womab. I'll jus' lef' this pot of herrins in' spuds off the fire, an' put the keddle on the ' slowrie' before I tells you the res' you don't know, which is on'y short now. But our Thobm won't take res' if the keddle is'n on the boil quhen he's done his spuds. He mus' heb a cup of tay an' barley-cake an' a junk of cheese afthar.
" He says you may blow yourself out laak a mollag [Dog-skin buoy for herring-nets] lek vis herrin' art' priddltas, an' botthar-milk, but by the time you've got across the haggat you feel as slampy [Slack] as a mollag jus' prick'd, and norra ha'porth of feedin' in them, an' mortal boosly kitchen ["Boosly Kitchen"-bad Victuals] and that's the for the keddle mus' be a-boilin'. Jus' put that bonn [stick] at your fut undbar, Mrs. Kelly, it will halp it on the boil.
"Yandhar is our Thobm. I see him comin' down at Snavl mine; he's more'n til a mile off, in' wont be here for avar so long, but I heb to tell quhat I've got to, short, before he comes.
"As I was tallin' you quhen I lef' off, the weddin' was to be in a munse, and not a sowl to know nithar in that parish nor this. He had walked ober to the norse an' got the license all right, but quhat was he to do for clo's for the weddin', an' a hoss an' cart to fetch her chisses, an' hapes of othar kiarthayrs she'd got, he couldn' tell. The masthar didn' 'vant no more sheep sol' nor no more harbs from Balla- yockey, an' quhat to do he was fairly puzzle.
" But the day before the weddin' he toul' the mothar- oul' blin' -Nan-an' toul' her too quhat a rich wife he was gerrin, vis long hun'ards arrar. An' the oul' watch, as you know, woman, was as full of the divvle as an egg is full of mate, as the sayin' is, an' she soon fonn' a way urrov the difficulty, as you will hear.
" I 'member quite well the day before the weddin', which happen' to be pancake Shusda' of all other days, an' I was t'rowin' up a pancake to turn it, as you know is the lek, woman, quhen it tuk a shine, as they will sometimes, an' as the 'Herrin' an' Pas'e' was jus' stappin' in at the kitchen door at the time, bad cess to it ! it onlucky fell on his head, an' the sof' bathar an' fat ran down his neck. Of coorse, it was an accident, as everybory could see, an' tho' riled enough the 'Herrin' ' was at the time, he soon gorr ober it, an' afthar he hed e't that pancake an' anothar, I hard him as'in the masthar if he would come down to the house an' see his mothar as she was bad urrov massy vis a tarrable pain in her leg an' side.
"The masthar went down vis him ,it once. Oul' Jemmy, you know, woman, was allis considhart tremenjous clavar at ' dochtrin, an' often calt to see peoble, an' by some would be calt jus' as soon as Stole, the dhruggis', who, you know, woman, is tuk to be clavar urro massy. Chut ! hann' he gorr all the books an' fothargary stuffs of Docthar Craan', of Ramsa' ?
" Quhen they gorr on the street-as he towl us-oul Nan was booin' an' groanin' mos' pirriful, and, quhen they gorr inside, she was lyin' wis a blankad mupp'led roun' her head, an' her leg on a cheer; and he towl us her leg was that swell'd it was as far roun' jus' as his t'igh.
"She said she couldn' get the stochin' off, it was that full, and the tullar of a piece of a beeve's livar; and, quhen he touch'd it thro' the stook'n' she sweeled out jus' as if a knife was goin' a-runuin' in her wis the pain that was array, and she'd been in agarness all the everin'. (Poor soul ! poor soul ! the chree !)
" Stuff an' rubbage an' bogh, an' a split stick, more lek, should heb been tuk to her back, to gib a nip an' a blow, as the man said. But you'll hear, woman, you'll hear.
" The masthar gib it as his pingion that it was harrisipples, and to be tuk fus' t'ng in the mornin', an' no time los', to Misthress Berry, at the Sthrang ; and to take the cart an' hoss, an' put planty of straw in the bog of the cart to lie on, an' the quhilts to cober her ; an' if any one in this blessed worl' could kill the disase, it was Misthress Derry wis her harbs an' her charms, an' navar failed, an' a mos' wondhar- ful woman wis power from on high he belayed, and Jemony to come back wis him to the house ; an' it was as lack as not they would be goin' through Dhoolish, an' he might as well get the shute of black clo's as former, an' be dasent for all, as becomin' one comin' of Ballacowin.
" So the ' Herrin" come up back wis oul Jemmy, an' tho misthress sent me up to the chiss to get them, and a hafe- crown gib to the sleech for Misthress Berry, an' the masthar and mistbress tarrable urro massy sorry for oul Nan.
" An' oul cuss she was, but allis libbin' on the Ballacowin and blin', the two of them- I mane the masthar and mistbress-was very hin' to her, an' as much skim-milk an, butthar-milk quhen we churn'd, an' spuds an' turmits an' carrats, an' allis hafe a sack of barley-male was lef' at the door quhen the cart was comin' from the mill, and norra farlin' for it all.
" But quhen it come to us feed'n the pig, it put mee monkey up, I can tell you, woman-tho' sarvant on'y I was, I couldn' stand' to see t'ings gone to was'e, an' I towl the masthar, but all I gorrurrov him was-' Lerram, lerram, you'll get lave,' and I navar said nawthin' afthar that, but lerram, and the t'ings might go to pot! for quhat I keered.
" But I'm ram'lin away from the subjac' again-quhy did'n you puk me up, woman 2
"As soon as I gorr up in the mornin', an' went to gib a sap to the cows, I foun' the hoss gone, an' the cart urrov the hag-at ; so I know'd they were gone off very 'arly.
" But, behowl ye ! oul Nan, the t'izzle, as we hard afthar, was tuk no fardbsr til her sisthar at Thalloo-Hogg, and puk down on the street, an' was drink'n' rum lek a fish, an' singin' an' dancin' all day laak mad lek, an' bragh'n tremenjis at the ruch wife theer Jemony-Bogh had gone to bring home. (But what about the erysipelas ?)
" Chut! women-bogh, it was nawthin' but all lies an' bittend'n from fus' to las', an norra haporth to do wis her, but tuk an' jamm'd a quhole boilin' of pig's porrage in one of the ' Herrin's' stock'ns, and shove her leg in it, and that's the swell leg she'd gorr an' the sweelin' an' groanin', all made up for the 'rasion, as the man said ; an' to get the hoss an' cart, and the black clo's for anothar time, and all plan't an' carried by that divvle-posses' watch-(God forgib me
for blagardin' the woman, and her in Kil Lonan churchyard!) -oul blin' Nan it was; but, Misthress Kelly, woman, as I was sayin', it makes mee blood run cowl quhen I t'inks of the wickadness and desate of them two.
" Quhen he hed lef' the mothar at Thalloo-Hogg to be calt for on his way back wis the hoss an' cart-he dribes across the mountains, and gets to Kuk Audhris village in time to get to church.
"I could tell you, woman, hapes of t'ings about the wedd'n breakfiss, whuch was up to the nines, I can tell yon, an' fus'-rate, an' couldn' be bet-as Jenny towl me herself times -wis on'y them three arrit.
"An' the way them two went to the church, woman, was a show ! one goin' one road an' the othar goin' anothar- mos' of a mile ronn', frecken'd of bein' quasthint and meetin' quite promiseake lek. (Promiscuous.)
"Oh! you ueed'n be a 'ruptin', I know, I know-at the church door, and on'y the pazon an' the clerk theer, an' the clerk guv her away, and the pus' from her to pay the clerk, as he hadn' les' til a £5 note, whuch he had crunmp't up in his han', an' was nawthin' in the worl' but a piece of dirty tombargar papar; and all the money he had gorr in the worl' was the hafe-crown the Ballacowin gib to him for Misthress Berry, at the Sthrang. (A terrible cold wedding I am thinking.)
"You may say so, woman, not lek the wedd'n's they hed here ; 'deed no, nawthin' laak tham.
" Quhen me an' our Thobm was spliced, no cars or shosabl's in yandhar times-shanks poney an' a fiddlar goin' before.
"All the miner fallas-Bobby-the-blood, an' Rock, an' oul Jem Crow, an' Bobby Lewney, Neddy Hommy, an' Ketty- boy-noa, an' a fella they calt 'Lord John,' an' a scoor of othar fallas met us at Peg-Balgean's at oul Laxa, an' the cart-rope across, an' norra sowl to pass till eberyborry bed gone into Peg's an' drunk our Thobm an' my health.
It tos' me a mathar of twalve shillin' for jough an, brok'n glasses. Put, my gough! ours was'n done on the sly, but the horns blowin' laak mad lek at the 'mob-beg' for three or foour everin's han'-rannin', and eberyborry in the parish knowin' for monses-but that's nithar here or theer, as the man said, let's gerr on.
"Well, they went from the church jus' as if nawthin' had happ'n, him a, yard or two in front, and her comin' as she might behin', a tarrable quare comin' home from a wedd'n, but the bose of them did'n 'want to be quashthant or tuk notis' of, an' so they gorr home to her mothar's, an' the hoss put to the tills at once, an' the chisses, three of them purr in the cart full of Jenny's t'ings-dresses an' perricuts no end ob, an' linen sheets an' blankads, an' kalthar an' flaxlen enough to stock a drapar's shop, an' all her own spinnin' on the lil quheel; an' the oul mothar bidd'n good-bye at the street-gate, an' the tears runnin' downher cheeks, an' couldn' for the life of her say more til ' God bless you, gel, an' be a good wife,' and hed to run back into the house wis her brat ober her face she wits that full, an' couldn' see them dribe off the street. (Poor soul, ! poor soul! the chree!)
" The everin' was gorrin', he said, and they had batthar be gerrin' on the road, as they had a long dribe before them, an' the snow jus' beginnin' to fall, tho' a fine everin' wis the moon at full, an' would be light on the mountains for three hours, whuch it would take them at the very las'e; and he halp her ober the quheel into the cart, and they sat on chisses, and drub away.
" Many's the time, the poor sowl ! has sat an' cried quhen she's been tellin' me about this parthan avis her inothar, whuch you must know, woman, Jemmy, the sowl, hed navar lef' for one single night before, and I could naber less'n to her wisout cryin' too, an' a lump in mee neck, quhen I t'ought of the home she was leabin, and the one she come to, poor sowl!
" Quhen they gorr at the ' Genjar,' he stop the hoss an' coax her to gerr out, and hab a mousful of sometin' warm, if it was on'y genjar wine, before cross'n' the mountains-but she wouldn' gerr out, she towl me, as she was wrapp'd in rugs, an' felt no call for anyt'in, an' ded'n keer to meet any one she might be know'd to.
"He went in, howen-so-avar, but did'n stay long, but she notice', quhen he gorr in the cart, the necks of two boddles in his jackad pockads-oul Jemmy's money for Misthress Berry gone laak a shot lek-and they drob over the ' claddagh' as the nearer', and up Sulby Glen.
"Quhen they hed gorr as far as the chabbal and Sulby Bridge, he gorr out, as you know, woman, theer is a tarrable steep sigsaggin hill for morn til a mile, and he went behint the tail of the cart, and she hard a turk go plop, an' a plug-lug- glug, and she knew wisout seein' that he was dhrink'n quhat was in the boddle by the neck.
"An' quhen they gorr at the top of the hill ober agans' ' Tholt-y -will,' the snow bein' heaby on the road, an' no one min'in' the hoss, it hed gone off the road into the ditch, an' he come runnin' up an' stagger'n avis the emp'y boddle in his han,' and grab'd the lines at the bosses head, swearin' an' cussin' lek a 'jough-eig,' an' 'mashes the emp'y boddle against the stone wall an' bruk it into smithareens.
"An' this was the fus' time, as she towl me, she hed the suspedgion she had been desaved, and that he was no 'local,' or how could he ? and her heart, as she said, went as heaby as a lump of lead.
" Quhen he gorr in the cart again, quhuch was quite as much as he could do, bein' dead dhrunk jus', he purr his arrim roun' her as they sat on the chiss, an' wanted to kiss an' cuddle her up, burr his bres smelt that nas'ey of rum an' tombargar spit that she wouldn' lerrim ; and the hoss, that freckned an' starty at bein' cuss' at and not being use to, it was quite as much as he could to keep it on the road an' urrov the turf bogs on Snavl side; an', as she towl me, kep' as far from him as she could, an' she felt in no heart for anyt'in of that surt 'vis such a lump at her bres' avis the heaby heart she'd got.
"As they were comin' down by 'Cairn-gerjoil,' the moon was jus' goin' down behint 'Mullaghouyr,' an' she could jus' see a glint of the tops of the farm-houses of Ballacowin an' Ballaquine, an' she as'e him if one of them was theer house ; burr all she could gerr nrrov him was a dhrunk'n grunt, an' -' You'll see, you'll see, time enough.' Quhat lil consus he hed (an' that was preshus lil, woman) was beginnin' to bodkar him, as the man said. (I should think so, the brute)
" Quhen they gorr at the road leadin' on to Thalloo-Hogg Street an' puk up, it was quite dark, an' the ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' gorr urrov the cart to gerr his mothar.
" Hom an' the sisthar managed, betwix an' between them; to gerrar into the cart, but she was that dhrunk she lay in the straw-but, quhen the cart hed gone through the ravvar at Ballaquine Hill, she managed to fin' her feet (Jenny towl me), and come slobberin' ober her, sayin', in the bes' English she could-She 'mus' hab a sight ob our Jemony's ruch wife,' an' gabbin' away in Manx, whuch Jenny couldn' undharstan', navar bein' used of the laak, lek, at home, the mothar bein' an English gel, an' in savvis at Archdaycon Moore's quhen the fathar married her, so theer was navar no Manx spuk arran. (How in the world could she see, being blind, and a dark night too ?)
" Quhy, woman, oul Nan allis saw wis her finghars, day- light or dark made no diffar wis her; rin', Jenny towl mee, she begun to finghar her all ober-wis not very clane han's ethar - an' she come to her nose an' moos, an' fingharin' eberytin', even to her ear-rings, laak fingharin' a, pianna.
" An' she finghard all her clo's, from the rose in her bonnad down to her laskic-side boots an' stock'ns, and even countin' how many perricuts an' skirts she'd gorr, an' wondharful tuk wis the sale-skin jack'ad ; and wouldn' trus' now, my gough ! there'd be long poun's yandhar.
"An' she was sayin' in her rubbidgy talk, as well is she could, quhat a, brave wife theer Jem had got, an' not forgerrin' to clap her han's at the long hun'ards she got' an' the nice farrim tha,' was arrar.
"Jenny towl me she was fair sick wis the tongue arrar goin' clack-clack, snapp'n lek a 'jouish,' mex'n the Manx an' English, an' the smell of her bres laak a pungeon wis her mous con'sant arrar nose.
"At las' they gorr at theer oul 'tholthan' [ruin] of a house, an' Jenny whondar in her heart quhy the chisses would be goin' a bringin' to the cowhus or stables, whuch she took it, an' not to be lef at the house, bein' dark, and no light in, she couldn' know batthar.
" But, poor sowl ! she was soon ondesabed quhen the rascal jump urroe the cart an' halp'd the mothar out, an' she went into the House an' gorr a light, an' the ' Herrin' 'begin to take the chisses out and purr them in the house, mak'n shure of them any way.
"Then he lef' Jenny out, an' naber a word urrov his moos, but purr her in the house-the herpocrite and ordasious rascal he was-an' the divvle-led he hed been, and tho' dhrunk he was-quhen it come to this, an' the shame of it, quhen he saw Jenny stan' in amaze in the dirty oul 'thalthan,' shut his mous, an' norra word urrov him, as he went out and tuk the hoss an' cart back to our house ; bein' all in bed I member at the time.
" Then poor Jenny's eyes was open complete quhen she saw the mis'abl' dirty place she hed come to, an' not much could she see ithar; its the light the oul dirt hed was no batthar til a farlin' rush in a cressit, an' was lookin' more laak a mine hole til a house, she towl me, an' to think this was to be her home now, an' how cru'lly she hed been desaved!
'She sunk on the seddle as she was, an' bus' out a cryin', an' oul Nan goin' potharin' aburt wis the cresset in her han' tryin' to light the fire, an' talk'n to herself all the time in Manx, whuch she couldn' understan'.
" Quhen the fire was made arrar, and the keddle purr on the slowree, and was beginin' to boil, the ' Herrin' an' Pas'e' come in again for habin' tuk the hoss au' cart, an' come on the seddle wis her and coaxes enough to take her t'ings off an' make herself at home, an' to kiss her; an' sorry mortal t'ings was 'n agsactly as she might expec', burr in pass'n through this worl' t'ings was often not as we was expact'n, an' the Lord knew bes' what was good for his childhar, an' not often lerrem hab theer own way, an' to take up the cross, which was far batthar for us.
"And a lot of othar 'boughtyned' and rubbage of the laak surt he went on wis, Jenny toavl me, as he sat beside her. (A slap in the mouth he should have got.)
"You may say so, woman, and sarve him right. My gough ! if it hed been me, two black eyes he would have got and no mistake, as the man said.
" Quhen oul Nan hed got the tay on the table, wis two cups an' saucers and a pint mug, an' the soda-cake she was bhraggin urrov she hed made wis her own han's the everin' before, and the chees, and ' do come, woman, do for all.,
"Poor Jenny, the chree ! towl me theer was such a beg lump in her neck for the worl' she couldn' hab gorr a tas'e down to save her life, if it had been of the very bes', instid of made at that dirty owl bas'e, wis han's an' face that looked as if they had'n touched water an' soap for munses han'- runnin'.
" An' she did'n, but sat on the seddle quhile the two of them guzzl'd down theer mate laak two pigs in a throch, and, quhen they hod e't up ev'ry mossal on the table, that ' riblas' of a ' Herrin' ' tuk a boddle of spirrits urrov his pockhad, and, quhen he couldn' get the curk urrovit, he tuk the knife and jap'd the neck off, an' poured the quhile pint in the mug he hed done his tay in, and bose of them serarrit [set at it] dhrinkin times about till avary dhrop was done arram.
"The oul watch tried to gerr on her legs to clare the 'kiartaghs' from the table, but she went down laak a mop on the floor, an' theer she lied.
" He jus' manage' to stagga behint the oul dirty quilt, an' fell on the bed.
" And theer she sat on the seddle, poor sowl ! through the- night, cryin' fet to bus' her heart, an' down on her knees wraslin' wis God to gib her strens and patience to beer the, heaby cross that hed come upon her.
"And the two of them snoor'd an' slep'.
"An', as she towl me, quhen the day begun to bre'k she was on her knees an' her head res'n on her han's on the furrim ; she mus' ha' drop'd asleep-an' she saw her fathar ; he come wis a smile, an' lay his han' on her head as he did quhen she was a lil gel at his knee, and he said-' Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil : for thou art with me'-then he lef' her, an' she 'woke, an' she towl me often she fel' whunderful comforted an' happy.
" And that's the way she spent her weddin' night, the chree !
"And Misthress Kelly, bogh ! You'll 'scuse me, won't you ? but this lump that's come in mee neck won't lemme perceed no furdhar wis the story, and as our respacted shupar says, ' Why need we labur the question furdhar ?'
" You know yoursel', woman, the res' as well as me, how the rascal an' out' Nan spent all her money dhrinkin' an' idlin' about as long as it las'. But the hard thrubb'l that came on poor Jenny-veg an' bruk her heart jus' was that afthar they were married she could navar gerrim to go to chabbal wis her. She was willin' to go wis him ethar to Balldhoon prim'tiv' or the Ballacowin, quhuch was her chabbal, bein' a Wesley'n, as you know, woman. But the dirt hed avarlas'in some'scuse or othar, 'Pherrick-ny-moaney,' or the 'Nollick' was ow'n him for sol'in theer shoes, an' the teeves an' the cusses ! not laakley him set fut in the same place as them rogues, an' he navar went to chabbal or any place of washup all the time they were married, but Oul' Nan an' him serrin' boosin' at home as long as the money las'. (How did Jenny's mother take it ?) Well, as I toul' you afore, woman, I went wis Jenny times afthar she fus' come here to see her mothar, an' for me not to say one mossal of a word how she hed been desaved to her mothar. And to see the 'put on' of that gel quhen wis her mothar was snthin' marblous urro massy, and even to the bhraggin' arrov the twalve cows she hed to milk, an' the butthar an' egg she tuk to Dhoolish market every Satada', an' navar lerrin' on was a show.
"And the joyous she was before her mothar; but the longin' that tuk her at times was pirriful to see, and this was carried on for twalve munses, and the mothar navar knew to the day of her dea's, quhuch was fourteen manses exac' from Jenny's weddin'.
"And heer's our Thobm on the street, as hungry as hungry I'll be boun'.
"You needn' run, Mrs. Kelly, woman; you won't be e't. Well, good everin', woman, if you are off.
"Mrs. Kelly, chree ! Do you hear ? You'll be goin' to the berryin', won't you? Your Jem is mornin' 'shef,' an' will see to the childhar. That's a good sowl; call on your way down an' we'll go togathar. I mus' sen' at once my black merino frock down to the factory for John Foser to gib it a dip in the black pan; them nasy yallar spots wis the egg at the Feer I can't gerr out, but Foser will take them out laak a shot. Good everin' to you again."
JOHN HEYWOOD, Excelsior Printing and Bookbinding Works, Manchester.