Yorkshire Tales Volume III Part 7

When Sammywell gate daan staars th' place wor full o' steeam an th'

smell o' sooapsuds, but he didn't put on his hat an goa aght, but he crept up cloise beside her an slippin his arm raand her waiste, he sed, "Mally, la.s.s, connot aw help thi a bit?"

"What are ta up to nah! Aw know thy tricks ov old! Tha thinks tha can put thi hand i' mi pocket an tak th' last s.h.i.+llin we have i'th haase!

But awm too old fas.h.i.+oned for thi. Ger aght o' this hoil or aw'll claat thi ovver thi heead wi this blanket!"

"Nay, la.s.s, aw dooant like to see thee tewin like this an me dooin nowt, let's help thi a bit."

"It's little aw'll gie for sich help as thine! If tha comes here to reckon to help me, tha'll want payin for it twice ovver."

"Why, Mally love, if tha'll gie me a kuss aw'll turn th' wringin machine for thi wol tha's done."

"Sammywell,--aw want thee to luk me straight i'th face an tell me what tha's had to sup this mornin an whear tha's getten it?"

"Aw've had nowt but that drop o' teah tha browt up stairs."

"Well, aw dooant want to say tha'rt a stooary teller, but aw can think what aw like."

"Nah, Mally love----"

"Ger aght o' this hoil, gurt softheead! If tha comes near me wi onny o'

thi 'Mally loves,' aw'll throw this bucket o' watter ovver thi! Tha'rt a fooil thisen an tha thinks awm one, but tha'll find thisen mistaen.

After been called 'Old Towel' an 'Blow Broth' an 'Old Nivversweeat,' to say nowt abaat names at awd be ashamed to mention--it's rayther too lat i'th day to try an come ovver me wi thi 'Mally loves.'"

"But awm baan to reform, awm net gooin to call thi sich names onny moor, an if tha'll n.o.bbut let me help thi, Mally love----"

"Aw'll gie thi 'Mally love!' Aw suppooas tha thinks aw havn't enuff to do, soa tha mun come here to aggravate an hinder me all tha can!"

"Tha shouldn't ha claated me across th' chops wi that weet hippen,--that's noa way to help a chap's reformation."

"Aw'll hit thi wi summat harder nor that if tha doesn't put on thi hat an ger aght. It's noa use thee tawkin' to me abaat reformin', for it's too lat on i'th day. If it wor possible to mak thi into a daycent chap ther's nubdy'd know thi. Even little Jerrymier coom in tother day to ax for thi becoss he wanted to goa for a walk, an when aw tell'd him tha wor up stairs, he sed, 'Is mi grondad reight in his heead to-day?' Even he knows thi!"

"Aw've done wi Jerrymier for ivver an aw hooap tha'll nivver mention his name agean in a haase o' mine."

"This haase is mine as it happens, an awst nivver ax thee whose name aw've to mention. A'a! awd be ashamed o' misen if aw wor like thee, comin an makkin a bother like this th' furst thing in a mornin."

"Aw didn't want to mak onny bother,--aw wanted to help thi, Mally love, but----"

"Ger aght o' this hoil or' aw'll mash th' peggy ovver thi heead! Tha gurt maddlin! Tak this s.h.i.+llin an goa an see if tha can mak thisen a bigger fooil nor tha art!"

"Well, aw'll tak it, tho' aw had meant to help thi a bit, but it seems tha'rt too thrang to help a chap wi his reformation. Gooid bye, Mally love, an----" But he just managed so slip aght o'th door i' time to miss th' foir shool at shoo flung at his heead.

"Aw'll put off reformin an tryin to act like aw used to do; for aw get noa encouragement. Its noa use tryin to suit a woman for it cannot be done. Aw see nowt for it but to goa on i'th same old way, an after all, old fowk can nivver be young agean. Well, ther's one comfort,--shoo's gein me a s.h.i.+llin. Vartue is its own reward."

Sheffield Smook.

Mister Sydney Algernon Horne, wor a weel to do chap, as yo'll gather thro' his name, for parents dooant give ther child sich fine names unless thers a bit o' bra.s.s behind em. If owd Horne, Sydney's feyther, had been a poor warkin man, he'd ha called th' lad Tom, or Bill, or happen Mike; but as he wor a gentleman, wi Bank shares, an Cottage haase property, he dubbed th' lad Sydney Algernon as aw've telled yo. Aw think its n.o.bbut reight at aw should tell yo at this rewl abaat names doesn't allus hold gooid, for ther's a mucky, dirty nooased, draggle-tail'd la.s.s lives up awr yard, wi frowsy hair at couldn't be straightened wi nowt short ov a cooambin machine; shoo hasn't a hawpney to bless hersen wi, an yet shoo's called Victoria Hujaney, after th' Queen o' these lands, an Ex-Empress o'th French.

But aw must get on wi mi tale, or else yo'll happen be thinkin 'at awm nivver baan to tell it. Mister Sydney Algernon Horne faand hissen an orphan at three an twenty year owd, an th' owner o' all th' Bank Shares an th' Cottages, besides th' haase he lived in, which wor a varry nice one wi a big garden, an situated, as th' advertis.e.m.e.nts says, in the mooast salubrious pairt o' Sheffield.

He knew a deal o' fowk at Sheffield--fowk like him wi a heap o' bra.s.s; an bein a single man, an furst-rate company, he wor welcomed i' all th'

big haases, a deeal moor heartily nor mooast o'th' readers o'th' Clock Almanac wod ha been. Young men made him welcome, becoss he could tell a gooid stooary an sing a song wi onny on em. Faythers an mothers o'

marriageable dowters wor fain to see him, i' hopes at he'd be smitten wi th' charms o' Matilda Charlotte or Ethel Maude,--but th' la.s.ses thersens wor fainest to see him, becoss he wor nice lukkin, an could tawk soft to em, an he used to squeeze ther hands when he wor sayin "gooid bye," soa gently, at he used to mak em ivvery one think at he wor dyin ov love for em.

But Sydney wor too wide awake to be catched easy; he wor varry happy an comfortable as a bachelor, an as he'd a gooid idea at i' mooast cases it wor his bra.s.s an not him at they wanted, he steered clear o' all th'

traps at they set for him; an when th' Kursmis parties wor all ovver, he wor still single--an they'd none on em getten noa forrader wi him when winter coom agean, an put a stop to Lawn Tennis an Croquet Parties.

But yo know it says i' th' gooid owd Book at it isn't "gooid for a man to dwell alooan"--an aw suppoas it isn't, for someha or other, sooiner or later mooast young chaps get dropt on, an Sydney wor noa excepshun to th' rewl. Aw'll tell yo hah it wor.

One snowy neet, at abaat six o'clock he wor gooin hooam to his dinner, (for swells yo must know ha ther dinners at th' time at respectable warkin fowk ha ther teahs)--He wor just pa.s.sin a dark lane end, when he heard a woman's voice singin aght "Help! Help!"

He cut up th' rooad as fast as he could, an abaat twenty yards thro' th'

corner, he seed a regular offal lukkin feller strugglin wi a young lady under a gas pooast.--As sooin as th' ruffian seed Sydney commin, he bolted ovver a wall, in a way at showed at it worn't th' furst time at he'd takken to his heels to save hissen a thras.h.i.+n.

Ov cooa.r.s.e as sooin as th' danger wor ovver, an ther wor noa need o' owt o't sooart, th' young lady swooned away--an it tuk Sydney all his time to bring her raand, in fact it worn't until he'd kissed her two or three times, at shoo begun o' commin to her senses.

As sooin as shoo wor able to walk, he a.s.sisted her hooam, or at least to th' haase wher shoo wor visitin. On th' way shoo tell'd him at they call'd her Mabel Mothersdale, that shoo wor stayin a wick or two wi some friends, an that shoo'd just slip aght to pop a letter into th' pillar box, when th' tramp attack'd her.

Sydney went next day to ax hah shoo wor.--Shoo wor varry fain to see him--an th' friends shoo wor stayin wi made a big fuss ov him, an axd him to stay dinner. He stayed ov cooa.r.s.e.

Th' next day he called wi a piece o' music 'at he'd been tellin em abaat--th' day after he went wi some tickets for a grand concert ther wor baan to be i' Sheffield--an what wi one excuse or another, he seed her ivvery day--an ivvery neet when he doffed his clooas an gate into bed, he felt moor i' love wi Mabel nor he had done th' neet befoor.

At last th' day coom for her to goa back hooam to Brummagem, where her father lived, an when Sydney called to say "gooid bye" to her, he tuk th' opportunity when they wor left aloan for abaat five minutes, to ax her to marry him. Mabel wor a sensible la.s.s, ho knew a reight chap when shoo seed one, soa shoo sed at shoo'd wed him wi pleasur if he'd get her father's consent.

"Mother's been deead these six years," shoo sed, "but befoor shoo deed aw promised her faithful at aw'd nivver marry nubdy withaat mi father wor agreeable."

Sydney kussed her an sed he wor quite content an he'd goa daan to Brummagem next Tuesday, an ax her father on th' Wednesday mornin, an as he wor weel to do i' money matters, noa daat ther'd be noa difficulty i'

gettin th' owd feller to have him for a son i' law.

Soa Mabel went hooam wi a happy heart, an caanted th' haars wol next Wednesday, when shoo'd see her dear Sydney Algernon ageean.

Nah as aw tell'd yo befooar, Sydney wor a reight nice young feller--he wor as steady as a clock, an nubdy couldn't say nowt ageean him, n.o.bbut for one thing, an that wor he'd getten an idea into his heead, at he couldn't possibly live baat bacca--mornin, nooin an neet, he wor hardly ivver withaat awther a pipe or a cigar in his maath, an tho' fowk tell'd him at he smooked a deeal too mich, it wor noa gooid.

"Aw couldn't live baat a bit o' bacca," he used to say, "an when th' day cooms 'at aw may'nt smook, aw shall'nt care ha sooin they shut me up in a box, an cart me off to th' burryin graand."

Soa yo can easy imagine 'at wi sich sentiments as these, he didn't leeave off smookin as ha fowk tawked. At last Tuesdy coom, an as th'

best train for Brummagem left at five o'clock in th' afternooin, Sydney decided he'd goa by that; an as its a longish gait, ov cooa.r.s.e he tuk jolly gooid care to have plenty o' smookin materials wi him.

When he gate to th' stashun, he faand aght to his disgust, 'at th' only reekin hoil on all th' train wor full, soa he gate into another carriage an decided to mak that into one, for he'd getten some slips o' paper in his pocket wi "_Smookin_" on, soa as he could stick one on if it wor required, haivver has nubdy else got in wi him, he didn't bother abaat puttin th' slip up. At last th' train started an glided aght o' th'

leeted stashun into th' darkness aghtside, for it wor winter time, an a thick muggy afternooin, soa he lit his pipe an started readin a "Clock Almanac" at he'd bowt--an what wi readin th' stories, an thinkin abaat ha sooin he'd see Mabel, an fillin his pipe, he didn't nooatice where he'd getten too; when all ov a sudden th' train started gooin slower an slower, an finally stopt at a bit ov a road-side stashun, abaat as big as one o' them hot pay hoils whear lads caar ov a neet to spend ther coppers in.

As it wor a express he knew it didn't owt to stop there, an just as he wor wonderin what ther wor to do, th' door wor oppened an a little owd gentleman wi spectacles on, wor tumbled into th' same compartment whear he wor, an a leather bag wor shoved in after him--a porter touched his hat an shaated aght "All reet!" th' door wor slammed too, th' whistle blew, an th' train started off agean.

"Phew! Yor smookin, sir!" sed th' owd chap as sooin as he'd getten his breeath an lukt raand.