"You see shoo allus knew whose turn sud coom next, an' wheer ivery sort o' bird was roostin'. One minute shoo pointed t' stick to t' top o' t' trees, an' then I heerd 'Caw! Caw!' Then shoo'd bring t' jackdaws out o' their holes i' t' rocks, an' next minute shoo were pointin' to t' mossy roots o' t' trees hingin' ower t' beck, while a Jenny wren would hop out an' sing as though he were fit to brust hissen. An' all t' time it were gettin' leeter an' leeter, an' I could see that t' sun were shinin' on' t' cliffs aboon Malham, though Janet's Cove were still i' t' shade. I knew my mother would sooin be seekin' me i' my cham'er, an' I started wonderin' what shoo'd say when shoo fan' t' bed empty. I gat a bit flaid when I thowt o' that, but I couldn't tak my een off t' lass wi' t' wand. I were fair bewitched wi' her, an' I doubt that if shoo'd pointed at me I sud hae started singin' 'Here coom three dukes a-rid in'.' "Howiver, shoo niver clapped een on me wheer I was sittin' behind t' stone. Shoo were thrang wi' t' birds were Janet, an' gettin' more excited ivery minute. By now t' din were fair deafenin'; I'd niver heerd aught like it afore, nor yet sin: without it were when my man took me down to Keighley, Christmas afore we were wed, an' I heerd t' lads and t' lasses singin' t' Hallelujah Chorus i' t' Methody chapil. When I saw t' conductor-lad wi' t' stick in his hand callin' up t' trebles an' basses an' tother sets o' singers, Marry! I bethowt me o' Janet an' t' birds i' t' cove, an' I brast out a-laughin' while fowks thowt I were daft. "But theer, barns, I mun get forrad wi' my tale, or your mothers will be coomin' seekin' you afore I'm through wi' it. By now ommost all t' birds i' t' cove were wakkened up an' were singin' their cantiest. I looked up, an' t' sun had gotten clean ower t' top o' t' fell, an' were shinin' straight down into t' cove. Ay, an' Janet saw t' sun too, an' when it were like a gert gowden ball at top o' t' hill, shoo pointed her wand at t' sun an' started dancin' aboon t' watterfall. I looked at her and then I looked at t' sun, an', Honey-fathers! if t' owd sun weren't dancin' too. I rubbed my een to finnd out if I'd made ony mistak, but, sure enough, theer were t' lile nakt lass an' t' owd sun aboon t' breast o' t' fell dancin' togither like mad. Then, all on a sudden, I bethowt me it were Easter Sunday, and how I'd heerd fowks say that t' sun allus dances on Easter mornin'." At this point I could not forbear interrupting Grannie to ask her whether she had ever heard of a poem called _A Ballad upon a Wedding_. She said she had not, so I quoted to her Suckling's well-known lines: Her feet beneath her petticoat, Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they feared the light. But O! she dances such a way, No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight. Grannie listened attentively and seemed to think that the heroine of the poem was the fairy that wakened the birds in Janet's Cove.