Surly Tim A Lancashire Story | Page 7

fell down beside o' th' poor crushed wench an' sobbed wi' her. I
couldna comfort her, for wheer wur there any comfort for us? Theer
wur none left--theer wur no hope. We was shamed an' broke down--our
lives was lost. Th' past wur nowt--th' future wur worse. Oh, my poor
lass, how hard she tried to pray--fur me, Mester--yes, fur me, as she lay
theer wi' her arms round her dead babby's grave, an' her cheek on th'
grass as grew o'er his breast. 'Lord God-a'-moighty, she says, 'help
us--dunnot gi' us up--dunnot, dunnot. We conna do 'thowt thee now, if

th' time ever wur when we could. Th' little chap mun be wi' thee, I
moind th' bit o' comfort about getherin' th' lambs i' his bosom. An',
Lord, if tha could spare him a minnit, send him down to us wi' a bit o'
leet. Oh, Feyther! help th' poor lad here--help him. Let th' weight fa' on
me, not on him. Just help th' poor lad to bear it. If ever I did owt as wur
worthy i' thy sight, let that be my reward. Dear Lord-a'-moighty, I'd be
willin' to gi' up a bit o' my own heavenly glory fur th' dear lad's sake.'
"Well, Mester, she lay theer on th' grass pray in' an crying wild but
gentle, fur nigh haaf an hour, an' then it seemed 'at she got quoite loike,
an' she got up. Happen th' Lord had hearkened an' sent th' child--happen
He had, fur when she getten up her face looked to me aw white an'
shinin' i' th' clear moonlight.
"'Sit down by me, dear lad,' she said, 'an' hold my hand a minnit.' I set
down an' took hold of her hand, as she bid me.
"'Tim,' she said, 'this wur why th' little chap deed. Dost na tha see now
'at th' Lord knew best?'
"'Yes, lass,' I answers humble, an' lays my face on her hand, breakin'
down again.
"'Hush, dear lad,' she whispers, 'we hannot time fur that. I want to talk
to thee. Wilta listen?'
"'Yes, wife,' I says, an' I heerd her sob when I said it, but she catches
hersen up again.
"'I want thee to mak' me a promise,' said she. 'I want thee to promise
never to forget what peace we ha' had. I want thee to remember it allus,
an' to moind him 'at's dead, an' let his little hond howd thee back fro' sin
an' hard thowts. I'll pray fur thee neet an' day, Tim, an' tha shalt pray
fur me, an' happen theer'll come a leet. But if theer dunnot, dear lad--an'
I dunnot see how theer could--if theer dunnot, an' we never see each
other agen, I want thee to mak' me a promise that if tha sees th' little
chap first tha'lt moind him o' me, and watch out wi' him nigh th' gate,
and I'll promise thee that if I see him first, I'll moind him o' thee an'

watch out true an' constant.'
"I promised her, Mester, as yo' can guess, an' we kneeled down an'
kissed th' grass, an' she took a bit o' th' sod to put i' her bosom. An' then
we stood up an' looked at each other, an' at last she put her dear face on
my breast an' kissed me, as she had done every neet sin' we were mon
an' wife.
"'Good-bye, dear lad,' she whispers--her voice aw broken. 'Doant come
back to th' house till I'm gone. Good-bye, dear, dear, lad, an' God bless
thee.' An' she slipped out o' my arms an' wur gone in a moment awmost
before I could cry out.
"Theer isna much more to tell, Mester--th' eend's comin' now, an'
happen it'll shorten off th' story, so 'at it seems suddent to thee. But it
were-na suddent to me. I lived alone here, an' worked, an' moinded my
own business, an' answered no questions fur nigh about a year, hearin'
nowt, an' seein' nowt, an' hopin' nowt, till one toime when th' daisies
were blowin' on th' little grave here, theer come to me a letter fro'
Manchester fro' one o' th' medical chaps i' th' hospital. It wur a short
letter wi' prent on it, an' the moment I seed it I knowed summat wur up,
an' I opened it tremblin'. Mester, theer wur a woman lyin' i' one o' th'
wards dyin' o' some long-named heart-disease, an' she'd prayed 'em to
send fur me, an' one o' th' young softhearted ones had writ me a line to
let me know.
"I started aw'most afore I'd finished readin' th' letter, an' when I getten
to th' place I fun just what I knowed I should. I fun her--my wife--th'
blessed lass, an'