Th Barrel Organ | Page 8

owd Pudge wiped his for-yed, an' he said, 'By th' mass, Dick, thae'll get th' bag for this job.' 'Whau, what for,' said Dick. 'Aw 've no skill of sich like squallin' boxes as this. If they'd taen my advice, an' stick't to th' bass fiddle, aw could ha stopt that ony minute. It has made me puff, carryin' that thing. I never once thought that it 'd start again at after th' hymn wur done. Eh, I wur some mad! If aw'd had a shool-full o' smo' coals i' my hond, aw'd hachuck't 'em into't.... Yer, tho', how it's grindin' away just th' same as nought wur. Aye, thae may weel play th' Owd Hundred, divvleskin. Thae's made a funeral o' me this mornin'.... But, aw say, Pudge; th' next time at there's aught o' this sort agate again, aw wish thae'd be as good as keep that pow o' thine to thysel', wilto? Thae's raise't a nob at th' back o' my yed th' size of a duck-egg; an' it'll be twice as big by mornin'. How would yo like me to slap tho o' th' chops wi' a stockin'-full o' slutch, some Sunday, when thae'rt swaggerin' at front o' th' parson?'
"While they stood talkin' this way, one o'th singers coom runnin' out o'th chapel bare yed, an' he shouted out 'Dick, thae'rt wanted, this minute! Where's that pitch-pipe? We'n gated wrang twice o' ready! Come in, wi' tho'!' 'By th' mass,' said Dick, dartin' back; 'I'd forgetten o' about it. I'se never seen through this job, to my deein' day.' An' off he ran, an' laft owd Pudge sit upo' th' organ, grinnin' at him.... That's a nice do, isn't it, Nanny?"
"Eh," said the old woman, "I never yerd sich a tale i' my life. But thae's made part o' that out o' th' owd yed, Skedlock."
"Not a word," said he: "not a word. Yo han it as I had it, Nanny; as near as I can tell."
"Well," replied she, "how did they go on at after that?"
"Well," said he, "I haven't time to stop to-neet, Nanny; I'll tell yo some time else, I thought Jone would ha' bin here by now. He mun ha' co'de at 'Th' Rompin' Kitlin'; but, I'll look in as I go by.'"
"I wish thou would, Skedlock. An' dunnot' go an' keep him, now; send him forrud whoam."
"I will, Nanny--I dunnot want to stop, mysel'. Con yo lend me a lantron?"
"Sure I can. Jenny, bring that lantron; an' leet it. It'll be two hours afore th' moon rises. It's a fine neet, but it's dark."
When Jenny brought the lantern, I bade Nanny "Good night," and took advantage of Owd Skedlock's convoy down the broken paths, to the high road in the valley. There we parted; and I had a fine starlight walk to "Th' Top o' th' Hoof," on that breezy October night.
After a quiet supper in "Owd Bob's" little parlour, I took a walk round about the quaint farmstead, and through the grove upon the brow of the hill. The full moon had risen in the cloudless sky; and the view of the valley as I saw it from "Grant's Tower" that night, was a thing to be remembered with delight for a man's lifetime.

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