"Aw'm noan come empty-handed," explained Mary, "it's noan my way. I suppose it isn't other o' you young women's birth-day, is it? No? Weel, it can't be helped; we mun mak' believe it is. Yo' mun tak' these wi' my good wishes. Aw med 'em missen, an' aw'm thinkin' they'll noan be th' waur for bein' hand-made. Men med machines, an' aw'm not denyin' some on 'em's a fair marvel; but God med hands." And Mary undid the parcel and proudly displayed its contents. My father had come into the kitchen and greeted Mary heartily, and won her heart at once by his kindly welcome and some quite unmerited praise of the graceless Jim. And now Mary drew forth a woollen comforter, long, broad, thick, and soft, that you could almost have wound round and round my father's whole body. "This is for you, Mr. Holmes, if yo'll be so kind as to wear it. Aw'n often heard how yo' go trapezin' ovver th' moors i' all sorts o' weather, which, axin' yo'r pardon, yo'n no right to do at yo'r time o' life, though weel aw know it's waste o' breath to gi' guid advice to th' best o' men. An' wishin' yo' health an' strength to wear it threadbare an' me to live to mak' yo' another when that's done. An' these vests is for yo' lasses. Yo' can wear 'em ovver yo'r shimmies i' winter time; they'd happen be a bit rough next to th' skin. An' these stockin's is for yo' girls, too. They're happen a bit big i' th' cauf o' th' leg, but yo'll thicken aat theer afore them stockin's is ready for th' rag bag, and they'll mak' varry guid floorcloths then. Aw did think while aw were about it aw'd mak' some little socks aat o' th' wool aw had to spare 'at 'ud come in handy some day. But aw once knew a woman, up Harrop Edge way--Laban's wife, yo'd mebbe know her, sir--an' oo med a set o' babby things when oo'd nobbut just started courtin', and never chick nor child did she have to wear 'em." But here Jim and I were hustled out of the kitchen, and what other confidences Mary might have to narrate were reserved for gentler ears.