"Axin' yo'r pardon, it isn't. An' what aw mean to say is a felly may
mak' ducks an' drakes o' his own brass, an' nob'dy's onny right to say
owt. But when it comes to lakin' wi' other folk's gear he cannot be too
careful. So aw'n come to th' concloosion--"
"Well?" we all cried.
"To talk th' matter ovver fully wi' mi' owd mother. Oo's nobbut a simple
body yo' may think, an' a working woman all th' days o' her life; but
aw'n ne'er known her wrong yet, an' aw reckon oo's too old to begin."
We all burst out laughing at what seemed, as the writer says, "a lame
and impotent conclusion," but I fancy there was a glimmer of a tear in
Ruth's eye as she jumped up and began to side the breakfast things and
put fresh water on to boil for my father's morning stirabout. But Miriam
said:
"That's a good and a wise thought of yours, Jim. And I'm sure Ruth and
Mr. Holmes would be very pleased if you could prevail on your good
mother to come up here some afternoon and have tea with us. Let me play
hostess, Ruth. Can't I give a tea-party out of this wonderful fortune
of mine?"
"We don't kill a pig every day," supplemented Jim.
"Next Thursday night, then," decided Ruth. "I'll see father doesn't get
called out that night, and there's no service for a wonder. And what do
you say to asking Enoch Hoyle? He's been among th' cloth all his life,
and should know something about it."
"Oh! Enoch's reight enough," admitted Jim, "if he'll nobbut keep off
religion, which aw tak' to be a matter needin' a mighty bit o' larnin'
to understan'; though why it sud be soa it 'ud puzzle a plain man to
explain. Aye, we'll ha' Enoch. But nob'dy else. 'Too monny cooks spoil
the broth,' as aw'n heard mi owd mother say." And Jim, after shaking
Miriam heartily by the hand and slapping me on the sound side of my
back, set off Digglewards, Ruth finding it necessary to show him as far
as the garden gate, though there was light enough by now, for we had
lingered an unconscionable time over our meal, and surely Jim knew his
way well enough by this time to find the gate blindfold.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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