Yorkshire Tales. Third Series | Page 2

John Hartley
wor me tha wor
praad on an net mi hat."
"Tha gets some strange nooations into thi heead, Sammywell. If ther's
owt abaat thi for onny woman to be praad on awm sewer aw dooant
know whear it is. But as sooin as tha's finished thi pipe aw want thi to
get shaved, an put on thi best Sundy suit an goa wi me into Westgate an
get a new hat--one o'th best ther is i'th shop, if it taks all th' brass aw
have i' mi pocket. Aw'll let Mistress Swindle see at shoo connot crow
ovver me!"
Soa Sammywell went aght to be shaved, an Mally began to get ready to
goa wi him, as sooin as he should be all fixed up to suit her.
"Nah, Sammywell," sed Mally, as sooin as they wor ready to set off,
"Aw dunnot want thee to say a word when we get to th' shop. Aw'll do
what tawkin has to be done, an if aw connot get thee a better hat nor
that tha has on thi heead, and one to seem thi better, aw shall know th'
reason why. Aw can hardly fashion to walk daan th' street wi thi, but it
isn't varry far an we happen shalln't meet onnybody we know."
When they walked into th' shop, Mally went up to th' caanter and sed,
"Young man,--aw want to buy a new silk top hat, latest fashion, best
quality, price noa object, if its under ten shillin, to suit this elderly
gentleman, an luk sharp abaat it, for we're prepared to pay ready brass."
"Certainly, maam," an he sooin had two or three ready for him to try on.
"How will this suit?--latest style."
"That willn't do at all. It maks him luk like a pill doctor. He wants a
chapel-gooin hat."
"Well, here's the very thing. Just the style for an old man."
"Then aw dooant want it! He's net an old man! He's noa older nor yo'll
be if yo live as long. Why, that maks him luk like a local praicher aght

o' wark!"
"How will this suit? This style is very much worn."
"Aw dooant want one at's been worn. Noa second hand hats for me."
Th' shopman didn't loise his patience, but tried one after another wol th'
caanter wor piled up wi hats, but nooan on em suited.
"Aw dooant know ha it is," sed Mally, "a big shop like this an cant get
a daycent lukkin hat! Awm sewer there must be one if onnybody'd
sense to find it. Here's one, try this."
Sammywell put it on. "That's the ticket! That luks like summat! Aw
knew aw could find one! Ha does it feel? Is it comfortable?" an shoo
twisted it to one side and then twisted it back agean. "Nah, what do yo
want for that,--an remember,--ready brass?"
"I cannot charge for that, because that's the hat he came in."
"Is that soa, Sammywell?"
"Eah, this is my own hat."
"Why, then, its what aw've tell'd thi monny a time,--its thee at doesn't
know ha to put it on. Th' hat ails nowt if ther wor some sense i'th heead.
Tha couldn't have a better. Its a blessin aw coomed wi thi or else tha'd
just ha thrown ten shillin away. Awm varry mich obliged to yo, young
man, for all th' trubble yo've takken to suit him, an aw hardly like to
goa aght withaat buyin summat. Yo happen dooant have onny
pooastage stamps?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then yo can let me have threehaupoth."
"Certainly shall I send them?"
"Nay, awm nooan to praad to hug mi own bundles. Gooid afternooin."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Grimes, glad to serve you at any time."
"He's a varry civil chap is yond. Be sewer Sammywell tha allus gooas
to his shop when tha wants a pooastage stamp."

Sammywell Sweeps th' Chimley.
"Tha'rt booan idle, Sammywell, that's what's th' matter wi' thee!"
"Mally, tha knows tha doesn't spaik trewth when tha says sich a thing;
for aw havn't a lazy booan i' mi skin an nivver had! Aw'll admit ther are
times when aw should be thankful for a bit ov a rest, but ther's no rest
whear tha art, tha taks care o' that."
"Rest! It'll be time enuff to tawk abaat rest when tha's done summat!
Th' hardest wark tha ivver does is aitin an drinkin, an tha does'nt hawf
chew thi mait as tha should. When do aw get onny rest? Con ta tell me
that?"
"Nay, aw connot. Aw wish aw could; but tha knows 'ther's noa rest for
the wicked,' soa what can ta expect."
"Dooant let me hev onny o' thy back-handed tawk or aw'll let thee see
whear th' wickedness comes in! Are ta baan to
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