Little Abe, or, the Bishop of Berry Brow: Being the Life of Abraham LockwoodJewell, F.
Religion
Little Abe, or, the Bishop of Berry Brow: Being the Life of Abraham Lockwood
Jewell, F.
Lockwood, Abraham, 1792-1871; Methodist Church -- Bishops -- England -- Biography
He placed his finger on the number which indicated his work, and she
saw it was a fact.
"Well," she said, "thaa canna goa; thaa has no claathes fit to wear
amang them grand foak."
Now Abe would never have given his clothes a thought if she had not
brought the matter before his mind in the way she did; now, however, he
remembered his coloured suit and his thick boots, and felt they were
scarcely befitting the place he was called to occupy, however well they
might do among plain people in the country places. At length he said,
"But if I'm plann'd, I mun goa, and if they don't loike my claathes, I
canna help 't." Meanwhile the date of the High Street event drew near,
and the following Sunday would find "Little Abe" at his post of duty.
He was far more anxious about his work than his appearance, so that all
the care on this matter fell upon his wife. She was bothered sadly
about his clothes. Saturday came, and, poor thing, she was bestowing
especial attention upon his old coat, mending button-holes, cleaning
spots out, brushing, shaking, and scrutinizing the old garments as she
had never done before. That evening they were sitting together, just
before Abe went out to the Band Meeting in the Chapel; a loud knock
came to the door. In a moment Sally opened it, and a man handed her a
large parcel, simply saying, "That's for Mr. Lockwood," and immediately
went away.
"What's this?" exclaimed Sally, feeling and patting the parcel.
"Nay, lass, don't ask me; thaa mun open 't, and then I'll tell the'."
A table-knife soon severed the string by which it was tied, and the
good woman proceeded with nervous fingers to unfold the wrapping, and
out came a black cloth suit for her husband. Neither of them could
speak for a moment or two; she lifted her apron to wipe her eyes; Abe's
lip quivered, and his eyes brimmed over; he couldn't help it, big round
tears fell on his clasped hands as they rested on the table; both of
them looked at the parcel. "Does the' see that?" at length said Sally;
"thaa'll look loike a travelling praacher naa, lad."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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