68 THERS' A MULE i'th' GARDEN, 



on, sicli ■weather as tWs; — unless it alters it'll be a dree Kursmiss-day. If ony 

 poor body has to cross this moor to neet, they'll be lost, as sure as sure 

 con be." 



" Its a fearful neet reight enufE lad, an it makes me creep cloiser to th' 

 range, — ^but its tli'sooart o' weather we mun expect at this time o'th' year. 

 Its a rare gooid job tha gate them peats in, for we stand i' need ov a bit o' 

 fire nah. Does ta mean to sit up all th' neet same as usual ? " 



" Eea, I think ther's nowt like keeping \\p th' owd customs, an' we've 

 niver missed watching Kursmiss in sin we wor wed, an' that 'U be nearly 

 forty year sin ; weant it ? Shift that canel, sithee ! ha' it sweals. Does'nt 

 ta tliink tha'd better ligg summat to th' dooar bottom ? Hark thi' what a 

 wind ! I niver heard th' likes; it makes th' windows fair gender agean. Soa, 

 soa ; lend me howd o' that pooaker, I shall niver be able to taich thee hah ta 

 mend a fire, I do think Tha should niver bray it in at th' top ; — use it 

 kindly mim, tha'll find it'll thrive better ; its th' same wi' a fire as it is wi' 

 a child — if you're alius braying at it you'll make it a sad un at th' last, an' 

 niver get nowt but black luks. But its net mich use talking to thee I con 

 see, for tha'rt ommost asleep ; I believe if th' thack ud to be blown off tha 

 couldn't keep thi e'en oppen after ten o'clock ; but use is second natur 

 ommost, an' I feel rayther sleepy mysen, I alius do when ther's a wind." 

 ***** 



In two or three minutes tliey wor booath hard asleep, but they hadn't 

 to sleep long, for ther coom a Icnock at th' door laad enuff to wakken deaf 

 Debra (an shoo couldn't hear thimner). Th' owd man started up an flew 

 to oppen th' door, an' in a stawped walking snow-drift. 



" I wish yo a merry Kiursmiss," he said. 



" Thank thi lad ; come a bit nearer th' leet. If tha's browt nooa 

 better luck nor tha's browt weather, tha 'd better ha stopped at hooam. 

 Who art ta ? " 



"Well, its a bonny come off," said th' chap, "when my own uncle 

 connot own me. " 



" Its nooan Ezra, is it ? " said th' owd woman, 



" That's my name, I believe, aunt," he said. 



Waw, do come an' sit thi daan. Set that kettle on lad, and make 

 him a drop o' summat warm ; he'll do wi' it." 



It worn't long afoor th' new comer wor sat i'th' front o'th' fire, 

 smooking a long pipe an' weeting his whistle ivery nah an then wi' a drop 

 io' whiskey an' watter. 



