n TURNED OUT 107 



hadn't no shift o' clothes, an' anyway 'twasn't no 

 fit time for her to trudge up over the Head, so 

 Dan'l's mother puts her to bed in Dan'l's house 

 an' stays there 'long wi' her. 



'Farmer heard o't, o' course. Next day, when 

 Ruth — her clothes dried — comes home, he meets 

 her, barring the gateway, an' says, "No fish 

 to-day, thank you, fishwife." That's all he said, 

 but 'twas his way of saying it. Her know'd her 

 wasn't to go back there no more, 



'Meeting me later on in the day, her says, 

 "Pearnie, can 'ee walk ten miles?" 



' "Aye, Miss," says I, for I'd have up an' 

 followed her anywhere. Her was that sort. 



' "I'm going to my aunt's, to Otford," her says, 

 "an' Dan'l's coming down in our boat for to 

 marry me an' fetch me home by sea. I'm going to 

 sail home," her says, "like a fisherman's wife ought 

 to. Pearnle, boy, come on ! Pearnle, boy, come 

 on !" her says. An' with the same, us started. 



'They was married to Otford Church, an' the 

 wedding party walked down 'long wi' 'em to 

 Otford Cove, where the Ruth was hauled up, for 

 to help shove 'em off. Ruth shoves, too, an' 

 jumps in over the bows like any fisherman, wedding 

 dress an' all, an' helps hoist sail. "Good-bye!" 



