"Well, Mr. Holmes, and kind sirs all," began Mary, and I knew from this mode of address that Mary had foreseen this occasion and that we were to hear what I have seen called in the newspapers a considered opinion. "Well, sirs, if a poor widder woman's opnion's o' onny, valley, which aw'm not gainsayin' it may be, aw'm thinkin' they met do waur. There's one thing sartin sure, 'at they'll n'er do mich guid as they are. Matthy Haley's getten th' only shop worth owt mich at Wrigley Mill, an' aw reckon Matthy's a sticker, which nob'dy can blame him for that. There's yar Jim theer tentin' th' engine and tunin' th' looms, an' noan so bad for a lad 'at could awmost go to th' hedge an' see his nippins, axin' yo'r pardon, aw'm sewer, for mentionin' sich things, but it's a way o' speakin' an' will aat. An' there's yo'r Abe. Weel, a weiver's a weiver all th' world ovver, an' weivin' nobbut poverty-knockin' when all's said an' done. Nah! aw'm noan so owd yet, but aw'n known dozens on dozens i' this Valley an' o'er th' top (over Stanedge) 'at's started for theirssen on a varry little brass, an' wheer are they nah? Why tak' Mr. Wrigley hissen, then there's th' Buckleys, an' th' Malalieus, an' owd Farrar down i' th' bottom--oh! ivver so monny on 'em. An' it's gen'ly bin wi' brass 'at's come to 'em through th' women. Other they'n wed it or some owd maid i' th' family 'at's welly clammed hersen to death's left it 'em. Aw know they like to ma' it aat when they'n getten on i' th' world 'at it's all their own clivverness, an' prudence, an' self--what do yo' ca' it?" "Self-denial," suggested my father. "That's it, an thank yo', sir, but aw'm no scholar missen, self-denial, but yo' mun tell that to th' Horse Marines, as they seyn, though who th' Horse Marines may be aw'n no more notion nor a babe unborn. There were nivver a weiver i' this world 'at could keep hissen, an' bring up a wife an' childer, an' save owt to speik on afore he were long too owd to think o' startin' for hissen; all th' best o' his days an' strength gone i' keepin' body an' soul together an' pilin' up a fortin' for other fo'k. But a' that's nother here nor theer. In th' blessed dispensation of providence an' Mr. Garside, which aw'd nivver ha' thowt it to look at him, an' not forgettin' yo'r gooid lady, Mr. Holmes, rest her soul, here th' brass is to us hands, an' th' question is, what mun they do with it?" "Th'art gettin' to it, mother," put in Jim. "Tha's gone a long road round, but it's happen for th' gainest." Ruth and Miriam came in at this juncture, all spick and span, and Ruth very brazenfacedly, as I thought, squeezed down by the side of Jim on the settle, a tight fit, whilst Miriam, as had become her wont, nestled on a hassock by my father's side, and stole a hand, still moist from much washing-up, into his. "For shame of yourself, Jim," quoth Ruth severely. "Please go on, Mrs. Haigh. Jim knows no better."