C/
 
 BECKSIDE LIGHTS
 
 BECKSIDE 
 
 LIGHTS 
 
 JOHN ACKWORTH 
 
 AUTHOR OF "clog SHOP CHRONICLES 
 
 'Ronton: 
 CHARLES H. KELLY 
 
 2, CASTLE ST., CITY RD. ; AND 26, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 
 1897 
 
 y 
 
 MhC
 
 ^0 /ifts mite
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 This volume is in reality a continuation of 
 Clog Shop Chronicles, and a few words of 
 explanation are here inserted for the assist- 
 ance of those who may not have read the 
 former book. 
 
 At the time of which we write, Beckside was 
 a small Lancashire mill-village, situated on the 
 south side of Brogden Clough, an irregular sort 
 of glen running almost due east and west. The 
 only public buildings in the place were the 
 schoolhouse and the little Methodist Chapel. 
 The latter stood on the right, just as you 
 came down the hill along the highroad from 
 Duxbury. A little farther down, on the left, 
 stood the Clog Shop, the little irregular row of 
 cottages at the eastern end of which it stood 
 forming the top or south side of a triangle, 
 made by the abrupt turning of the highway 
 down towards the Beck, and by Mill Lane, 
 which led through the mill-yard on to Beck- 
 bottom and Clough End. 
 7
 
 8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The Clogger was the chief official at the 
 chapel, and, being of a somewhat self-assertive 
 disposition, he had become in course of time 
 the ruling spirit of the village. Long Ben, a 
 tall, bony, mild-tempered carpenter, was his 
 lieutenant. And Sam Speck, a small-featured 
 man living on a small annuity, acted as hench- 
 man to both. Besides these there were Lige 
 the road-mender, Jonas Tatlock the choir- 
 master, Nathan the smith, and Jethro the 
 knocker-up. These worthies resorted to the 
 Clog Shop at all convenient times, and there 
 discussed such topics as the life of the village 
 provided. And it is these conversations and 
 the circumstances connected with them which 
 arc here detailed. The dialect is that spoken 
 in the neighbourhood of Bolton.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 the student . . . . .11 
 
 Leah's lover — 
 
 L the black sheep . . -33 
 
 n. the course of true love . . 53 
 
 in. A new finger in the pie . -7' 
 
 IV. better than her fears . . 91 
 
 sally's redemption — 
 
 I. unreciprocated advances . . 115 
 
 II. THE old love .... 127 
 
 lice's LEGACY— 
 
 I. A lawyer's LETTER . . . 141 
 
 II. A QUESTION OF CONSCIENCE . . 163 
 III. HOW THE NEW PLATE WAS BOUGHT . 181 
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST— 
 
 I. A FATHER'S HONOUR . . . 205 
 
 II. OWD CROPPY'S ERRAND . . .217 
 
 III. JOY COMETH IN THE MORNING. . 23I 
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL — 
 
 I. LOVE AND MUSIC. . . . 241 
 
 11. NO PLACE LIKE HOME . . . 259 
 9
 
 lo CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE— 
 
 I. ROCKS AHEAD .... 279 
 
 II. REMORSE ..... 299 
 
 III. THE SACRIFICE .... 309 
 
 THE HARMONIUM— 
 
 I. AN APPLE OF DISCORD . . -321 
 
 II. THE TRUSTEES' MEETING . • 339 
 
 III. THE ANGELS' SONG . . . 357 
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN — 
 
 I. THE MAUVAIS SUJET . . -371 
 
 II. HOW THE BOGGARTS WERE LAID . 3S7
 
 The Student 
 
 11
 
 The Student 
 
 " Squire's lat ta-neet," said Sam Speck, turning 
 the palms of his hands to the Clog Shop fire and 
 looking towards the window with a vain assump- 
 tion of indifference ; " bud he allis is when yo' 
 wanten him." 
 
 "'Specially upo' th' plan neet," added Lige 
 the road-mender. " Aw've noaticed it naa fur 
 mony a ye'r." 
 
 " He does it o' pupuss," snapped Sam irrit- 
 ably ; and then, after a pause, he added, " He 
 keeps a horse as is a disgrace ta th' village. As 
 owd as Mathusalam an' as booany as a herrin'." 
 
 Now, Squire Taylor, the unlucky object of 
 this abuse, was the village greengrocer, who on 
 Fridays became the village carrier, and brought 
 from Duxbury the various consignments of 
 goods sent out to Beckside. He was the usual 
 medium of communication between Beckside 
 Methodism and its ecclesiastical chief, bringing 
 the book parcel once a month, and the new 
 plans every quarter. These plans were of course 
 objects of great interest to the frequenters of 
 the Clog Shop, and so the night on which they 
 
 13
 
 14 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 arrived was al \va\'S one of great importance ; and 
 to sit waiting for Squire's arrival, and to unite in 
 denouncing his dilatory ways, became a regular 
 part of the quarterly programme. 
 
 On this occasion, however, the interest was 
 greater than usual, for it was the first plan after 
 the reopening of the chapel, and several times 
 lately the " super " had dropped mysterious but 
 eagerly accepted hints about the new importance 
 of Beckside, and his intention to improve its 
 pulpit suppl}'. 
 
 Hitherto the position of the village amongst 
 the other places in the circuit had been a 
 somewhat lowly one. It ranked amongst the 
 smallest, was supplied chiefly by the less distin- 
 guished of the local preachers, and had for years 
 been a sort of starting-place for young aspirants 
 to pulpit fame. In fact, the " exhorters " so 
 inevitably opened their commissions'at Beckside, 
 and received their first heckling in the Clog 
 Shop parlour afterwards, that the village had 
 acquired amongst the preachers the title of 
 the " College," and many a luckless wight 
 remembered it as the scene of his first and last 
 appearance in the pulpit. 
 
 Our Beckside friends w^ere quite aware of 
 their dubious distinction, and whilst grimly 
 satisfied to be " a terror to evil doers," or those 
 who couldn't do at all, they had long protested 
 against being practised upon by"ivvery Jack-i'- 
 th'-box as thinks he can preich." But now, of
 
 THE STUDENT 15 
 
 course, in the enlarged chapel, things would be 
 different, and the expected new plan would show 
 them in their true position. 
 
 " Plans," cried a stentorian voice outside, and 
 the door was burst hastily open. A small roll 
 of papers came flying into the shop, striking 
 Isaac, the apprentice, on the head, and rebound- 
 ing, extinguished his candle, whilst a volley of 
 more or less uncomplimentary expletives was 
 fired at the invisible and retreating carrier by 
 those around the Clog Shop fire. 
 
 "If Aw thowt he'd done that o' pupuss" — 
 began the injured Isaac, as he rose from his seat 
 and commenced to relight his candle. But Sam 
 Speck had stepped across the shop, and, pushing 
 the apprentice on one side, he grabbed at the 
 roll of plans, and returned hastily to his seat. 
 
 Sam appeared to be about to open the roll 
 himself, and, in fact, had already commenced to 
 do so, knowing only too well that if it passed 
 into Jabe's hands they would be some time 
 before they got any information, as the Clogger 
 always held the parcel tight, and would neither 
 distribute the plans nor even read out the 
 appointments until he had carefully examined 
 things for himself. But as Sam hesitated, the 
 Clogger reached out his hand with a significant 
 gesture. 
 
 " When thaa gets my shop [appointment] 
 tha'st dew my wark," he said sternly, and Sam 
 was constrained to surrender the parcel, whilst
 
 i6 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the rest resigned themselves to wait as patiently 
 as possible until Jabe should have got through 
 his characteristically deliberate preliminaries and 
 be ready to give them information. 
 
 A minute or two elapsed, during which Jabe 
 was untying the string round the plans, refilling 
 his pipe, and searching for and carefully cleaning 
 his best spectacles. Then, adjusting the glasses 
 upon his nose with extraordinary care, he slowly 
 opened the crackling paper, and with a grossly 
 overdone appearance of indifference glanced all 
 round the floral-border of the plan, ran his eye 
 leisurely down the column of the preachers' 
 names, scanned the notices, and even scrutinised 
 the printer's name, just as if the word Beckside 
 did not appear on the sheet at all, and just as if 
 five intensely curious men were not waiting " on 
 tenter-hooks " to have the Beckside appoint- 
 ments read out to them. 
 
 At length the dogger's eye wandered to that 
 place low down on the plan where he knew by 
 long experience he would find the most im- 
 portant of all place-names. And as he struck 
 Beckside and began to run his eye along the 
 plan, he suddenly started to his feet, crying, in 
 tones of intensest amazement — 
 
 " Well, Aw'll be bothert ! " 
 
 •' Whey ? Whey ? Wot's up, Jabe ? " cried one 
 or two, whilst Sam Speck tried to dodge round 
 behind the Clogger, and look over his shoulder. 
 But the wiser ones sat still and said nothing.
 
 THE STUDENT 17 
 
 " Wot's up ? " shouted Jabe, swinging round 
 out of Sam's reach, and holding the plans high 
 up. " Didn't Aw tell yo' as Beckside wur 
 summat naa ? We'en getten a sthudent planned 
 fust Sunday." 
 
 Every man in the company seemed suddenly 
 to become taller, their faces assumed expres- 
 sions of grave dignity, and every man became 
 clamorous for his own copy of the plan. Then 
 Jabe fetched Isaac's candle, and, curtly bidding 
 that worthy to " Ger off whoam," he brought it 
 and fixed it in an old mill bobbin, to afford 
 extra light for the important business in hand. 
 Returning to their seats, and using, those in the 
 chimney-nook the fire, and the rest the lamp 
 and candle, they were soon eagerly and silently 
 scrutinising the all-absorbing sheet. 
 
 " Ther's noabry else hez a sthudent bur uz 
 and Duxbury," said Long Ben, with his shaggy 
 black beard nearly singeing in the fire. 
 
 " Neaw, that's it," replied Jabe ; " they'n ne'er 
 been planned noawheer bud Duxbury afoor." 
 
 The rest lifted their heads and looked steadily 
 at each other to assist themselves in comprehend- 
 ing the full significance of this great fact, and 
 then Lige added emphatically — 
 
 " Wee'st ha' noa mooar hupstart exhausters 
 here, yo'll see." 
 
 Then the other appointments were examined, 
 and a somewhat lengthy discussion arose as to 
 whether Billy Fatcake, who had been certainly
 
 i8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 quite welcome in former days, and Hallelujah 
 Tommy, who had the fatal misfortune to be a 
 Clough Ender, were quite up to the newly- 
 acquired importance of Beckside. But the 
 debate lost much of its heat and asperity from 
 the fact that the first appointment had given a 
 satisfaction which no ordinary matter could 
 disturb. 
 
 Next day was Saturday, and by Sunday the 
 Clog Shop magnates had schooled themselves 
 into a becoming modesty on the subject of the 
 new plan. The preacher for the day was a 
 brother from an adjoining circuit, a great crony 
 of Jabe's, and consequently a person of interest 
 and influence to all the rest of the village. 
 
 " Dun yo' iver hev' ony sthudents at yore 
 chapil ? " asked Jabe, as the pipes were being 
 lighted after supper. 
 
 " Neaw ; an' we dooan't want," was the answer, 
 in sharp, raspy tones, as if the question had 
 touched a sore place. 
 
 All the Becksiders exchanged glances of 
 surprise and concern. 
 
 " Whey not ? " asked Jabe, in a slightly re- 
 sentful tone. 
 
 " Whey not ? When we goon ta th' chapil i' 
 Sharpley we goon fur t' yer th' gospil, and no' 
 Greek and grammar and shirt-neck." 
 
 There was a long pause, during which every 
 man present stared at the speaker with wide- 
 opened eyes, and Sam and Lige turned and
 
 THE STUDENT 19 
 
 nodded at each other in a manner expressive of 
 unutterable things. But the preacher broke in 
 again — 
 
 "Them colleges 'ull be th' ruin o' Methodism, 
 yo'll see. They goon theer dacent, modest lads, 
 an' afoor they'n bin theer mony wik they're aw 
 cooat and collar and white neck-clout. Thank 
 goodness ! noabry ne'er shoved a grammar daan 
 my throttle." 
 
 Now, it would have been impossible for the 
 speaker to have found better soil into which to 
 drop his seeds of prejudice than that provided 
 in the minds of those to whom he was talking. 
 For if there was one thing upon which they 
 were more completely agreed than another, it 
 was that pride was the blackest of all sins, and 
 especially so when it appeared in the pulpit, and 
 they shared to the full the common suspicion 
 of their class against all unsanctified learning. 
 The speaker's words, therefore, came like a 
 heavy wet blanket upon the hopes and self- 
 gratulations they had indulged concerning the 
 coming student, and when the preacher departed 
 he left behind him six depressed and sulky men. 
 
 When he had gone, and a gloomy quiet had 
 settled on the company, Long Ben broke silence 
 for the first time that night by staring hard at 
 the oatcake-rack over his head and reciting as 
 if he had been saying a lesson — 
 
 " ' Wrath is cruel and anger is outrageous, but 
 who shall stand before envy ? ' "
 
 20 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Nobody seemed to understand what Ben's 
 quotation had reference to, but, as he was much 
 given to such mysterious allusiveness, nobody 
 was greatly disturbed. Jabe, indeed, looked for 
 a moment as though he were going to ask a 
 question, but repenting suddenly, he also lapsed 
 into despondent silence. 
 
 Several times that evening, and in the early 
 days of the week following, Ben tried to raise 
 discussion on the subject of the coming repre- 
 sentative of the " Hinstitewshon," but without 
 success. Towards the end of the week certain 
 mysterious hints began to be dropped as to 
 what would happen if the student turned out to 
 be of the character hinted at by last Sunday's 
 preacher, and when it was found that in conse- 
 quence of an interesting domestic event at the 
 Fold Farm, and the absence of the doctor in 
 London, the student would have to be enter- 
 tained somehow at the Clog Shop, every man 
 who was present when the arrangement was 
 concluded looked at Jabe with such expressive 
 commiseration in his eyes that the old Clogger 
 began to feel something of the hallowed delights 
 of minor martyrdom. 
 
 All day on Saturday Aunt Judy was busy 
 " fettlin' up " at the Cloggery in preparation for 
 the advent of the stranger. Jabe was manifestly 
 depressed. He was also strangely uneasy. He 
 kept coming out of the shop into the parlour 
 where Judy was busy, without any visible reason
 
 THE STUDENT 21 
 
 for so doing ; and at last, when his sister began 
 to tell him where he would find various eatables 
 she had provided for the week-end, he turned 
 round as he was leaving the parlour and snapped 
 out with quite unaccountable temper — 
 
 " Dust think Aw'm gooin' ta molly-coddle fur 
 yond' chap fur tew days? Aw'Il ler him clem 
 fust ! Tha mun come an' feed him thisel', if tha 
 wants him feed in'." 
 
 Now Judy quite understood what was the 
 matter with her irascible brother, had been, in 
 fact, expecting some such demand, and had 
 come prepared to stay. She knew that Jabe 
 was secretly in great fear of being left alone 
 with the student. So she hung her shawl behind 
 the parlour door, and settled down as the 
 temporary mistress of the Clog Shop. 
 
 Meanwhile Jabe, though evidently relieved, 
 was still very uneasy. The statement of his 
 friend from Sharpley as to students in general 
 had grievously disappointed him, but it was so 
 entirely in harmony with his own suspicions as 
 to the ungodly character of learning and its 
 disastrous effects on religious life, and so fully 
 confirmed his opinions as to the " forradness " 
 and " pompiousness " of the rising generation, 
 that he greatly feared it would turn out to be 
 only too true. If it did turn out so, he was 
 morally certain he would not be able to restrain 
 himself all the time from Saturday to Monday, 
 but would be sure to explode upon the student.
 
 22 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And if he kept down his own chagrin, he 
 would not be able to restrain his friends, for 
 they were already charged to the full with 
 anticipatory resentment, and were so well 
 primed as to require very little indeed. to set 
 them off. 
 
 But then the student was to be his guest, and 
 a Lancashire villager's ideas of hospitality are 
 as high as those of the Arabs, and it would be 
 a most shocking thing to be entertaining a man 
 and " basting " him at the same time. The 
 dilemma worried him, and the whole thing 
 created in his mind an impression distinctly 
 unfavourable to the coming visitor. 
 
 A little later, Sam Speck arrived, and was 
 ordered, in tones he knew better than to resist, 
 to meet the coach and bring the student 
 home. 
 
 As the time of arrival drew near, Jabe seated 
 himself in an arm-chair, and in his shirt-sleeves 
 and his best clothes waited the great arrival, 
 pulling nervously the while at a clean church- 
 warden. 
 
 " Aw reacon it 'ull be a mee-mawin' donned- 
 up, grammarified young sprig o' some sooart ! " 
 he said to Judy in tones of depreciation, but 
 before she could express her evidently different 
 opinion the front door opened and Sam Speck 
 stepped over the sanded floor, ushering in the 
 student. 
 
 Jabe's fears were abundantly confirmed.
 
 THE STUDENT 23 
 
 A tall, smart, well-dressed young cleric, with 
 kid gloves, a silk hat, irreproachable linen, and — 
 saddest sign of ministerial worldliness — a hair 
 watch-chain with gold mountings, and a gold 
 locket that dangled itself aggressively before 
 Jabe's very eyes. 
 
 Jewellery in the pulpit was the most unendur- 
 able of all things in Beckside, as more than one 
 preacher had found to his cost, and Jabe was 
 telling himself that it was no use resisting the 
 inevitable, and that, guest or no guest, he would 
 have to deliver his soul, when the stranger 
 stepped up to him with easy confidence and 
 shook him heartily by the hand, which still 
 further confirmed Jabe's conviction that he 
 would have to do some painful taking down. 
 
 Then the student greeted Aunt Judy as Mrs. 
 Longworth, and thereby discovered Jabe's 
 peculiar opinion of women, on which he took 
 Mrs. Judy's part, and became quite animated in 
 his defence of the gentler sex. Jabe had the 
 utmost difficulty in preventing himself from 
 reminding this assured young man of his age, 
 and by way of avoiding it, pointed to the table, 
 and invited his guest to " Reich tew an' get 
 yore baggin'." 
 
 Whilst the student ate, talking chiefly to 
 Aunt Judy, and getting thereby on most ex- 
 cellent terms with her, Jabe was quietly taking 
 stock of him — examining him slowly from head 
 to foot a dozen times, and coming back after
 
 24 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 each scrutiny to that ungodly gold locket. Sam 
 Speck, too, seemed in a meditative frame of 
 mind, and sat looking into the fire with a com- 
 pany smirk on his small face. 
 
 Then Long Ben came in, followed by Jethro 
 and Lige, each man nodding with a stiff " How 
 do ? " to the stranger, and then sidling off into a 
 chair, which was gradually turned round to an 
 angle from which the visitor could be furtively 
 examined. 
 
 Somehow it was difficult to get a conversation 
 started ; and though the student, having finished 
 tea and declined an invitation to " smook," drew 
 briskly up to the fire and plunged at once into 
 the most popular Methodist topics of the hour, 
 he was unable to get on, his companions sitting 
 there in impenetrable silence, and answering — 
 when they answered at all — in freezing mono- 
 syllables. 
 
 At length, after a depressing pause, Long 
 Ben asked a question which set the student off 
 describing the " institution " and its ways. He 
 waxed eloquent on the learning and ability of 
 the tutors, told stories of the college prayer- 
 meeting, and gave several instances of success 
 achieved by his fellow-students on their preach- 
 ing excursions. 
 
 Every man in the company was listening 
 intently, expecting every next word to contain 
 some allusion to the student's own oratorical 
 triumphs. But though they waited with
 
 THE STUDENT 25 
 
 studiously stolid faces, the expected reference 
 never came, and they were not able to detect 
 the note of conceit they were all confidently 
 anticipating. 
 
 " An' dun yd ne'er ha' noa convarsions ? " 
 asked Long Ben at last. 
 
 " Y-e-s," said the student, suddenly very 
 sober ; " but not so many as I should like." 
 And he flushed slightly and coughed apologetic- 
 ally, whilst every man in the company seemed 
 lost in far-off contemplation. But the student 
 had scored his first point. 
 
 " Tell uz abaat some of yore good toimes," 
 said Aunt Judy, coming forth from the scullery, 
 where it was not supposed she had been 
 listening. 
 
 "Well, I haven't had many conversions, I'm 
 sorry to say," was the answer, with a shadov/ on 
 the speaker's face, and a little sigh, " but I had 
 one little bit of encouragement about two months 
 ago. I was out from college, and had ;to walk 
 in the afternoon to a place across some fields. 
 As I went along with a friend we overtook a 
 poor woman who looked very wretched. I got 
 into conversation with her about good things, 
 and when we parted I invited her to come to 
 the evening service. She did so, to my surprise, 
 and, ah — well, she was converted that night, and 
 then she told me she had been a bad woman, 
 and was on her way to drown herself when I 
 spoke to her."
 
 26 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 The tale was rather lamely told, but to those 
 listening to it, its halting style greatly enhanced 
 its value. 
 
 " Han yo' yerd owt o' th' woman sin'?" asked 
 Ben, with shining eyes. 
 
 " Yes," said the student hesitatingly ; " she 
 sent me a chain made out of her own hair, and 
 with a locket on it containing a little copy of 
 my text on that evening." 
 
 " An' is that it yo' han on ? " asked Jabe. 
 
 " Yes," said the student ; and the Clogger 
 began to vow vengeance on his friend from 
 Sharpley. 
 
 When they left that night every man in the 
 company shook hands with the stranger, and 
 the good man did not know how great a compli- 
 ment they were paying him by so doing. His 
 appearance certainly had prejudiced them to, 
 begin with, but his frank, hearty, unassuming 
 manner had severely shaken those prejudices. 
 
 Jabe had already thawed considerably, and 
 before they retired he had waxed quite confiden- 
 tial, as the young preacher listened with evident 
 appreciation to all the details of the rebuilding 
 of their beloved sanctuary. 
 
 Next morning, however, the Clogger's hopes 
 were somewhat dashed when he found his 
 guest carefully conning a manuscript as he 
 waited for breakfast. A more disturbing sign 
 could not well have appeared, for Beckside 
 could not away with " parrotty papper " in the
 
 THE STUDENT 27 
 
 pulpit. The consequence was, therefore, that 
 Jabe drew into his shell again, and the student 
 was chilled. 
 
 And the morning's sermon, though it was far 
 from the least suspicion of paraded learning, 
 deepened the dogger's discontent. It was far 
 too pat and glib for so young a man. Hesitancy 
 and confusion would have been more becoming, 
 and Lige expressed the opinions of most of the 
 recognised sermon testers when he shook the 
 preacher by the hand at the bottom of the pulpit 
 stairs, and said, loud enough for all to hear — 
 
 " If tha'll put a bit mooar ginger into that 
 sarmon, it 'ull be a fizzer." 
 
 But, then, as he saw Long Ben nodding 
 emphatic endorsement from the side pew, and 
 Nathan and Sam grinning approvingly from 
 behind the choir curtains, Lige lost his head 
 and added the reckless and dangerously com- 
 promising statement — 
 
 " Tha'll be fit fur t' preich aar Sarmons some 
 day if tha goes on." 
 
 That was the worst of Lige, he never knew 
 when to stop. What was the use of putting such 
 an utterly unlikely idea into the young man's 
 head. Only very great men indeed preached 
 the Sermons, and even they felt it to be a great 
 honour. Besides, wasn't pride the one deadly 
 danger of the class to which the student be- 
 longed, and wasn't it the sacred duty of all 
 experienced Christians to do their very utmost
 
 28 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 to keep it out of the hearts of those so 
 tempted ? 
 
 So Lige was in disgrace all day, and Jabe 
 felt it to be his bounden duty to remove any 
 vain hope which might have sprung up in the 
 young man's heart by telling him of all the 
 illustrious stars who had officiated at those 
 memorable annual celebrations. 
 
 The evening sermon tasted better. It was 
 freer, warmer, simpler, — a plain gospel appeal 
 in fact ; and when the preacher in the after- 
 meeting told, in husky tones, the story of his 
 own conversion, the character of students had 
 been redeemed in Beckside, and the anxious 
 responsibles who gathered in Jabe's parlour felt 
 as nearly contented as it was possible to do 
 under the circumstances. 
 
 Just as they were drawing up to the table for 
 supper, a timid knock was heard at the front 
 door, and Judy hastened to open it. After a 
 minute or two's earnest whispering, she came 
 hurrying back, crying, " Howd on a minute," 
 and turning to the student, she continued — 
 
 " Ther's a wench here wants her babby 
 kessening. Yo'd better dew it afoor yo' begin." 
 
 "Oh, but I can't! I daren't!" cried the 
 student in alarm, " I'm not ordained, you 
 know ; I really cannot," 
 
 " Of course he conna," said Jabe oracularly, 
 and rising from his seat, he limped to the door 
 to inspect the applicant. Aunt Judy tried to
 
 THE STUDENT 29 
 
 intercept him, but he dodged her, and was soon 
 heard speaking in stern, hard words to the 
 invisible mother. 
 
 " Whether yo' con kessen gradely childer or 
 not, yo' conna kessen yond','' he said to the 
 student as he resumed his seat a moment later 
 at the table, flashing at the same time a look 
 of peculiar significance at Long Ben, who hung 
 his head. 
 
 The student blushed as the meaning of the 
 dogger's words dawned upon him, and a very 
 awkward pause ensued. 
 
 Anxious to find a topic on which conversation 
 could be safely started again, the young preacher 
 glanced up towards the joists, and noticing an 
 odd-shaped green baize bag hanging there, he 
 asked — 
 
 " That isn't a bass viol, is it ? " 
 
 " If yo' guessen ageean yo'll guess wrung," 
 answered Jabe, following the direction of the 
 student's eyes. 
 
 " Then I suppose you play it, do you, Mr. 
 Longworth ? " 
 
 Every mouth stopped eating, and every eye 
 was turned upon Jabe as he answered with an 
 elaborate affectation of indifference — 
 
 " Ther's noabry else played on't for this last 
 thurty ye'r, at ony rate." 
 
 The student expressed his delight, acknow- 
 ledged he could fiddle a bit himself, and Jethro, 
 Nathan, and Sam Speck hastily finished their
 
 30 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 supper, and went off to fetch their instruments, 
 so that in a few moments the preacher had his 
 choice of three. 
 
 The student certainly could fiddle, and he 
 knew all the good tunes, — i.e. the old tunes, — 
 " tunes as wur tunes," as Jethro, the greatest 
 of the Beckside musical authorities, declared. 
 Then he played one or two new tunes, which 
 were received with carefully-guarded approval. 
 And then Jethro and Sam Speck gave their 
 visitor a sample of Beckside " Sarmons " music, 
 and then another and another, until the evening 
 seemed gone in no time, and it became un- 
 mistakably evident, by the way she poked at 
 the fire, and ostentatiously brought clog-chips 
 from the workshop and piled them on the 
 parlour hob, that Aunt Judy thought it was 
 time for them to be gone. 
 
 But again that timid knock came at the front 
 door, and Judy, with a startled exclamation, 
 hurried, as fast as her bulky form would allow 
 her, to open it. Then an excited but whispered 
 conversation was heard going on outside, and 
 presently Judy came back with desperate 
 resolution written on her face. She hastened 
 across the parlour into the scullery, and in a 
 moment came out with a white china basin filled 
 with water, which she placed on a table before 
 the student. 
 
 " Mestur," she cried in agitated tones, " that 
 poor wench at th' dur has a babby as hoo
 
 THE STUDENT 31 
 
 shouldn't have. Bud hoo were browt up i' aar 
 schoo', and her muther hes i' th' chapil yard. 
 Hoo knows hoo's dun wrung, bud hoo doesn't 
 want fur t' dew wrung to her babby. An' 
 hoo's bin to th' Brogden vicar, and he winna 
 kessen it ; and hoo's tramped aw th' way 
 to th' Hawpenny Gate, an' he winna ; bud, 
 Mestur, Aw think Him as yo' bin preichin' 
 abaat ta-neet 'ud dew it if He wur here, 
 an' wot He could dew yo' con dew, and 
 chonce it." 
 
 There was a sob and a rustle at the door, and 
 a pale, shamefaced factory girl stepped forward, 
 unwrapping as she did so a bundle containing a 
 five-weeks-old baby, and sobbing audibly the 
 while. 
 
 " Look at it, Mestur," she cried, holding out 
 her little one. " It's as bonny as ony o' them 'at 
 Jesus tewk in His arms," and then, pressing 
 closer and almost forcing the baby upon him, 
 she pleaded — 
 
 "Tak' it, Mestur, tak' it. Aw know Aiu77i 
 aat o' th' kingdom o' God, but Aw dunnot want 
 mi babby ta be." 
 
 In a moment the student, with face all awork, 
 had snatched the wee thing from its pleading 
 mother, and was offering a simple prayer for it 
 as he held it in his arms. Then he sprinkled it 
 in the " Blessed Names," and, still holding it, 
 prayed again, — prayed for babe and mother too, 
 — and then, as he handed the infant back, his
 
 32 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 eyes wet with tears, he stooped clown and 
 tenderly kissed it. 
 
 " God bless yo' fur that " cried the agitated 
 mother ; " an' ha'iver lung yo' live, an' wheriver 
 yo' goa, yo' con remember as there's wun poor 
 woman as 'ull alHs be prayin' for yo', if hoo is 
 nowt but a nowty factory wench an' a woman 
 as is a sinner." 
 
 And then she hugged her little one to her 
 breast, and again blessing the student, departed ; 
 and Jabe, with face struggling between em- 
 barrassment and joy, and tears that wouldn't 
 keep back, seized the student by the hand, 
 and, wringing it until he winced again, he 
 cried — 
 
 " If we liven till next Wis-sunday, yo'st preich 
 th' Sarmons ! "
 
 Leah's Lover 
 I 
 
 The Black Sheep
 
 Leah's Lover 
 
 I 
 
 The Black Sheep 
 
 Sunday School was being held in the new 
 schoolroom one hot Sunday afternoon some 
 months after the reopening of the chapel. 
 
 The superintendent was temporarily absent, 
 and Lige, who was taking his place, though he 
 frowned dreadfully in rather grotesque imitation 
 of his great model, had none of the terrors for 
 juvenile minds with which Jabe inspired them, 
 and so the order of the school was scarcely 
 what it ought to have been. 
 
 The boys in the Testament classes were 
 pitching their voices high, and fiercely com- 
 peting as to who should read loudest, the 
 work being done with a peculiar intonation 
 supposed to be the correct thing by all Beck- 
 side juveniles. 
 
 In the mixed and rather crowded infant class, 
 whilst a few were giving the teacher languid 
 
 36
 
 36 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 attention and some were fast asleep, two were 
 standing behind the teacher and helping each 
 other to drink out of a small bottle containing 
 that best wine of Beckside childhood — Spanish 
 juice water. Three more were trying to get 
 sound out of a wicken whistle they had made 
 by a peculiar method of treating the bark of a 
 certain soft wood, and started guiltily when the 
 desired sound unexpectedly came. 
 
 The top classes of youths and maidens, though 
 removed from each other by the width of the 
 school, were contriving to hold such communica- 
 tions as only the mystic telegraphy of youth 
 admits, and the little girls were making pocket- 
 handkerchief rabbits, retrimming each other's 
 hats, and glancing longingly every now and 
 again towards the desk, impatient for the 
 moment of release. 
 
 Presently a little door leading out of the 
 chapel vestry opened, and in walked Jabe, Ben, 
 and Nathan the smith. None of these gentle- 
 men could ever be charged with lack of serious- 
 ness in facial expression, but now, as they 
 appeared, their countenances were positively 
 alarming in owlish portentousness. Jabe limped 
 to the desk, with slow, impressive manner ; and 
 after heaving a deep sigh and glancing nervously 
 towards the young men's class, he rang the bell 
 and cried — 
 
 " Silence, childer ! Tut th' beuks away; " and 
 the sad sternness of his tone caused several of
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 37 
 
 the teachers and most of the elder scholars to 
 glance up inquiringly at him. 
 
 When the box-seats had all been filled with 
 books, and two small boys had been " seaused " 
 on the ears for banging the lids, Jabe rang the 
 bell again. He really seemed very uncomfort- 
 able, and mopped his face and nearly bald head 
 with a great red cotton handkerchief, whilst Ben 
 and Nathan, seated behind him, held down 
 their heads with a fidgety, apprehensive look. 
 
 " Aw ne'er thowt Aw should iver see this 
 day," began the Clogger, shaking his head and 
 looking round on the upturned faces ; and Ben 
 and Nathan groaned sympathetically. 
 
 " Aw've bin th' shuper o' this schoo' for welly 
 thirty ye'r, bud Aw ne'er thowt we should come 
 ta this." 
 
 By this time every eye in the school was 
 upon him ; even the infants, who understood 
 little of what was being said, realised that there 
 was a new and significant tone in Jabe's voice, 
 and stopped their pranks to listen. 
 
 After another pause and another laborious 
 employment of his handkerchief, — for heat and 
 excitement were both telling upon him, — he 
 seemed to get the better of his feelings, and 
 changing his voice to sudden sternness, he 
 demanded — 
 
 " Whoa wur it as blacked his face an' went a 
 pace-eggin' [mumming] last Yester [Easter], 
 and welly feart owd Nanny aat of her wits ? "
 
 8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Some dozen small boys immediately answered, 
 "Luke Yates"; and there were signs of unwonted 
 excitement in the young men's class. 
 
 "An' whoa wur it as went riding th' stang up 
 Slakey Broo just afoor last Wis-sunday ? " 
 
 Again came the answer from at least twice as 
 many juveniles as before — 
 
 " Luke Yates." 
 
 Then Jabe, raising his voice, and almost 
 shouting in angry sternness, continued — 
 
 "An' whoa wur it as ran a race fur brass 
 yesterday amung bettors an' gamblers an' pidgin- 
 flyers ? " 
 
 Grand unanimous chorus of small boys — 
 
 " Luke Yates." 
 
 And then Jabe raised his eyes from the 
 scholars and looked round at the windows and 
 walls, and apostrophising them, cried, with a 
 break in his voice — 
 
 *' An' his fayther wur a local preicher ! " 
 
 A young fellow in the first class, with short 
 red hair, brown laughing eyes, and a mischievous 
 mouth, suddenl}' dropped his head, and all his 
 classmates glanced at him with painful interest. 
 
 After another pause of most uncomfortable 
 stillness, Jabe went on — 
 
 " We'en done aw as we con fur him. We'en 
 talked to him, an' we'en prayed wi' him. Bud 
 we conna goa on no longer o' thisunce. Aw 
 ne'er thowt Aw should live ta see a scholar 
 o' this schoo' turnt aat. Bud Aw have. An'
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 39 
 
 Aw feel that ill abaat it Aw could start o' 
 skriking." 
 
 Jabe's quivering chin fell on his breast for a 
 moment, and then raising his head and looking 
 at the red-haired youth, he said in a husky, 
 tremulous voice — 
 
 " Tak' thi cap, an' away wi' thi." 
 
 Luke sat perfectly still, and his generally 
 merry, impudent face became suddenly white 
 and drawn. 
 
 " Dust yer me ? Away wi' thi," shouted Jabe 
 more sternly, stretching out his hand and 
 pointing towards the door. 
 
 Long Ben, from behind, gasped, " Lord, help 
 him," and Nathan was rubbing one side of his 
 head, as he generally did under unusual mental 
 disturbance. 
 
 Jabe's own face was a struggle between stern 
 resolution and something very close to tears, 
 whilst the youth addressed, after hesitating a 
 moment, slowly rose to his feet, and, with a 
 sickly attempt at a laugh, reached his cap from 
 the peg over his head and strode towards the 
 door. 
 
 As he was turning round the corner of the 
 last form, however, an irresistible fit of his old 
 mischievousness seemed to seize him suddenly, 
 and turning defiantly round, and facing the 
 whole school, he made a grotesquely elaborate 
 bow and cried, "Gooid-day, and gooid shuttance," 
 and then shooting a quick, stealthy glance at
 
 40 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the teacher of the lowest girls' class, who was, 
 perhaps, the only person in the school who was 
 not watching his departure, and whose fine little 
 head was bowed, whilst two round spots of 
 flaming feeling glowed on cheeks of marble, he 
 hastily opened the door and disappeared. 
 
 Now, nobody noticed Luke's quick glance, 
 neither did anybody notice the white flame- 
 spotted cheeks of the young person towards 
 whom he threw it. And if they had noticed 
 it, nobody, in Beckside at any rate, would have 
 been surprised ; for Leah Barber, Ben's eldest 
 daughter, was the one person in the school 
 who would be certain to endorse the super- 
 intendent's action. 
 
 Leah was a quiet, staid little Puritan, almost 
 prudish in her manner, but with an intense 
 attachment to the chapel, and a whole-hearted 
 interest in its affairs. She had little in 
 common with the girls of her age, and her 
 name was generally omitted from the flirta- 
 tion gossip so popular with her sex. 
 
 When Billy Botch began to " shape " for 
 the ministry, one or two had suggested the 
 suitability of a match between Leah and the 
 young preacher ; but Billy v/ent away without 
 giving any sign, and everybody knew without 
 being told that, whatever she felt, nobody was 
 ever likely to get anything out of Leah. The 
 Beckside youths stood in awe of her ; the 
 one or two rash spirits wlio had ventured to
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 41 
 
 approach her with amatory intentions suddenly 
 repented of their attempts ; and Jack Westhead, 
 the latest of her would - be lovers, declared, 
 after the second experiment, " Hoo isna a 
 flesh an' blooid wench at aw, hoo's a lump o' 
 icet." 
 
 Besides, she was so mature and serious in 
 all her deportment, and seemed so entirely 
 given up to chapel and school affairs, that she 
 appeared to have neither time nor inclination 
 for the ordinary interests of maidenhood. 
 
 The peculiar expression on her face, there- 
 fore, as the disgraced Luke disappeared 
 through the school door, was just such as 
 everyone would expect ; and those who re- 
 tained any lingering sympathy for the banished 
 scholar, knew perfectly well that it was use- 
 less to go to her for support. 
 
 It was a pity she was so cold, and that her 
 standard of conduct was so exacting, for out- 
 wardly she was very attractive. The smooth 
 roundness of youth softened a face that would 
 otherwise have been almost severe. She had 
 features of faultless regularity, was a trifle 
 above medium height, and had limbs that 
 were nearly perfect in their modelling. Every 
 movement was graceful, and would have been 
 more so but for that restrainedness which 
 ruled the spirit that governed them. Her 
 skin was marble white, and her full, dark eyes, 
 screened by long eyelashes, would have been
 
 42 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 dangerous gifts indeed to a girl of a different 
 spirit. She dressed with almost Quaker-like 
 plainness, but had her full share of that air 
 of superiority which such plainness sometimes 
 gives to those who practise it. Nobody could 
 have passed her as she walked home from 
 school that hot afternoon without noticing her, 
 but he who looked twice would also think 
 twice before needlessly accosting her. 
 
 In Long Ben's parlour, where tea was always 
 laid on Sundays in honour of the day, nothing 
 was talked about but the event which had 
 taken place at school. Ben himself, divided 
 between a judgment which endorsed Jabe's 
 action and a tender heart which regretted it, 
 said little. Mrs. Ben held forth very earnestly 
 on the subject, holding up the abandoned 
 Luke as a terrible warning to Ben, junior, 
 and his twin -brother Andrew; whilst the two 
 younger girls raked their memories for bygone 
 transgressions of the wretched Luke, which 
 they retailed with unconscious but impressive 
 embellishments. 
 
 But Leah said not a word, although, as she 
 never said much, nobody noticed the omission. 
 
 Ben's workshop stood end on to Sally's 
 Entry, a short cut to the mill, and faced the 
 road. Next to the shop came the woodyard, 
 which was separated from the house and 
 garden by a flag fence, backed up by a row 
 of shrubs. The house stood back from the
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 43 
 
 workshop, having a small garden in front and 
 a larger one behind. 
 
 The front garden was given up to flowers, 
 and as Leah was chief gardener, and had a 
 weakness for old-fashioned flowers, the whole 
 patch was on this particular Sunday one mass 
 of bloom. 
 
 Just after sunset, and whilst long red rays 
 were contending for mastery with the en- 
 croaching twilight, Leah sauntered aimlessly 
 out of the front door, and began to pick here 
 and there a faded leaf, and now an over-spent 
 bloom, from her beloved flowers. Presently 
 she got down to within a yard or so of the 
 gate, and stood in the soft twilight with her 
 back to the woodyard, looking pensively down 
 on a bed of snapdragon. She was just stoop- 
 ing down to examine them more closely, when 
 there came from somewhere behind her a loud, 
 but slightly hesitant, whisper — 
 
 " Leah ! " 
 
 But she did not move, and, but for the 
 sudden setting of her face, it might have been 
 concluded that she had not heard. She 
 stooped a little lower, until her face nearly 
 touched the taller of the flowers, and seemed 
 to be absorbed in studying them. 
 
 " Leah ! " — clearer this time, and yet it had a 
 penitent, coaxing sound in it. 
 
 Still she kept her face over the flowers, 
 and only a slight quiver in her lissom
 
 44 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 fingers showed that she knew she was being 
 called. 
 
 " L-e-a-h ! " — this time drawn out with most 
 plaintive anxiety. 
 
 Leah paused a moment, raised herself, 
 glanced cautiously at the house windows, 
 hesitated for a while, and then stooped down 
 again over the flov/ers as though she had 
 heard nothing. Again came the thick loud 
 whisper — 
 
 "Leah! come i' th' yard! If thaa doesn't, 
 Aw'll come ta thee." 
 
 The stooping maiden's face flushed a little. 
 Then she raised herself, turned round, and, 
 moving slightly nearer to a sweetbriar bush 
 against the flag fence, said, in cold, severe 
 tones, looking across the woodyard, and speak- 
 ing apparently into vacancy — 
 
 " Tha's dun me a gooid turn fur wunce, 
 Luke." 
 
 A red head and a pair of roguish bi'own eyes 
 shot up from behind the flags, and Luke Yates 
 asked dubiously — 
 
 " Wot wi' ? " 
 
 " AwVe bin forgettin' mysel', an' desavin' my 
 payrunts, an' hurtin' my sowl, an' tha's cur't 
 me." 
 
 " Well, bud come i' th' yard a minute. Aw 
 want t' tell thi summat." 
 
 " Thaa towd me aw' as Aw want ta know 
 when thaa went aat o' th' schoo' ta-day."
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 45 
 
 " Well, it's thy fawt." 
 
 Leah frowned, but avoiding the eyes gleam- 
 ing so eagerly at her from behind the briar- 
 bush branches, she asked, with both surprise 
 and resentment in her tone — 
 
 " My fawt ? Wot dust meean ? " 
 
 " Aw meean Aw could be a saint if tha'd ha' 
 me, bud Aw'st goa ta Owd Harry if thaa winna." 
 
 " If thaa winna be a Christian ta get me, tha 
 winna be wun when thaa hes getten me." 
 
 " Thaa wants me ta be a hypocryte then ? " 
 
 But Leah had already repented of going so 
 far. She had meant to be both cold and brief 
 with Luke, and he was already getting the 
 better of her, as he always did in argument. 
 She felt also that he had caught her, and placed 
 her at a disadvantage, and so, drawing herself 
 up and making an effort, which even her self- 
 restraint could not conceal, she said — 
 
 " Luke, tha's disgraced thisel' ; tha's disgraced 
 th' schoo', but tha shall never disgrace me." 
 
 And then, after a moment's pause — "Aw wuish 
 thi weel " — and here her voice became just the 
 least bit unsteady — " an' Aw've tried ta think 
 weel on thi, bud ther mun be noa mooar on it. 
 Gooid-neet, an' — an' God save thi soul." 
 
 And as tears were rushing into her eyes she 
 turned hurriedly away, and in a moment more 
 was indoors. 
 
 Half an hour later Leah stood in the darkness, 
 lookincf out throusfh the bedroom window with
 
 46 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 a far-off wistful look. Presently she lighted a 
 candle, took a little key from her pocket, and 
 opening a small rosewood box which she reached 
 down from the drawer top, took out a little 
 paper parcel containing a small box made of 
 sea-shells, such as can now be bought at any 
 watering-place for a few coppers, but then some- 
 what of a rarity in a place like Beckside, 
 
 It was only a cheap little toy which a rough 
 lad had bought some four years before on his 
 first and only trip to the " sayside," and which 
 he had kept until it was sadly tarnished before 
 he mustered courage to give it to her. She 
 was in short frocks then, and very shy, but she 
 had kept it all this time as her one earthly 
 treasure, and had lately had many " fightings 
 within " about the possible sinfulness of keeping 
 it, especially as story after story of Luke's 
 pranks came to her. 
 
 But now she stood looking at it with unwonted 
 softness in her beautiful eyes. Suddenly she 
 made a sort of grab at it as if intending to 
 destroy it, but she only took it in her hands 
 and turned it over and over. Then with a 
 quick start she threw it on the bed, and stood 
 back as if it had suddenly become a venomous 
 reptile seeking to wound her. 
 
 After standing there and looking at it, half 
 in fear and half in covetous desire, she took it 
 up again, kissed it hastily, as if afraid of being 
 caught in the act, hurriedly dropped it into the
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 47 
 
 rosewood case, and then turned abruptly to the 
 window and stood looking long and silently 
 out, heaving many long soft sighs as she 
 did so. 
 
 Then she backed away from the window, and 
 sat down on the bed ; and presently sliding 
 softly to her knees, and burying her beautiful 
 face in her hands, she cried — 
 
 " O Lord, Aw darr na loike him, but it conna 
 be wrung to pray fur him. If Tha'll save his 
 soul Thaa can give him ta onybody Thaa loikes. 
 O Lord, save him." 
 
 Meanwhile the event of the day was being 
 discussed in all its bearings at the Clog Shop, 
 or, rather, in the Clog Shop garden, for the heat 
 was so stifling that the chairs had been taken 
 to the back door, where, in the long Sabbath 
 evening, Luke and his transgressions were com- 
 prehensively considered. 
 
 Sam Speck, in his shirt-sleeves, emphatically 
 approved of Jabe's action in the matter. Nathan 
 and Jonas talked more mildly, but, nevertheless, 
 heartily supported him. Long Ben said little. 
 He never could be relied upon where firmness 
 was required ; but as he was not quite so 
 mysterious and circuitous in his conversation as 
 he generally became when in reluctant dissent, 
 it was concluded that he agreed as much as he 
 could be expected to do. 
 
 Jabe, so far from being elated by the com- 
 mendations he received, accepted them somewhat
 
 48 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 restivelx', and it was clear that he was far from 
 being at ease with himself. He was constantly 
 bringing the conversation back to the subject 
 of Luke, and though nobody questioned what 
 he had done, his every word had a defensive and 
 almost apologetic tone about it. 
 
 All this time Lige the road-mender had been 
 sitting with his back against the rain-tub, puffing 
 out volumes of smoke at express rate, whilst he 
 was evidently giving more than usual attention 
 to the conversation. 
 
 The fact that he had never spoken was not 
 noticed, especially as his opinions, loudly and 
 frequently repeated though they were, were not 
 generally regarded as of much importance, being 
 almost always feeble reflections of Sam Speck's 
 or Jabe's. 
 
 Great, therefore, was the amazement of all 
 when, just at the close of one of Jabe's most 
 successful efforts at self-justification, Lige sud- 
 denly rose to his feet. Standing before the 
 Clogger, and stretching forth his hand in 
 emphatic gesticulation, whilst his face looked 
 fierce and excited, he cried, glaring almost 
 savagely at Jabe — 
 
 " It's th' biggest blunder tha's iver made." 
 
 The whole thing was so sudden, and the 
 source from whence it came was so unusual, 
 that all eyes w^ere suddenly turned on Lige in 
 astonishment, and Jabe's jaw dropped with 
 sisfnificant bewilderment.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 49 
 
 " Naa, Aw meean it," shouted the excited 
 Lige. " If some o' yo' owd bachelors hed a lad 
 or tew o' yur own, yo' wouldna be sa keen at 
 bullocking other foakses." 
 
 Then everybody suddenly remembered that 
 Lige's only child was a long -absent prodigal, 
 wandering nobody knew where, and there was 
 a rapid softening of scowling faces and a nervous 
 clearing of throats. 
 
 But Jabe, with much more inward agitation 
 than he cared to show, and most unusually 
 sensitive to criticism, replied — 
 
 " Whey, he wur feightin' nobbut last neet ; 
 feightin' wi' Bob Tommy as is big eneugh ta 
 eight [eat] him," 
 
 This seemed to incense Lige more than ever, 
 and, almost flying at Jabe, he cried — 
 
 " An' dost know wot he wur feightin' abaat ? " 
 
 " Neaw." 
 
 " He wur feightin' th' biggest bully i' Brogden 
 Clough 'cause he caw'd thee a limping 
 Methody." 
 
 There was a hasty dropping of heads, partly 
 in startled self- consciousness, and partly in 
 sympathy with the badly hit Clogger. 
 
 Lige glared round upon the company, as rf 
 challenging the next to come on, and as nobody 
 responded, he cried — 
 
 " Which o' yo' wur browt up wi' a druffen 
 [drunken] step-fayther ? Which o' yo' hed ta 
 feight his fayther ta save his muther fro' 
 
 4
 
 50 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 brokkcn boanes afore he wur fifteen ye'r owd ? 
 Aw'd ha' sum sense if Aw wur yo' ! " 
 
 And then, exhausted by his very unusual 
 effort, and alarmed all at once at his own 
 temerity, Lige sank back against the rain-tub, 
 with a look in which defiance and apology were 
 curiously blended. 
 
 It was some time before the conversation 
 flowed freely again. Lige's outburst not only 
 let loose feelings which had been resolutely 
 held back in Jabe's mind ever since Luke's 
 expulsion, but it greatly disturbed the rest, 
 and Jabe noticed with a pang that Long Ben 
 seemed to want to get away, and, in fact, did 
 depart as soon as he could. When he had 
 gone the Clogger became morose and raspy, 
 and though Lige made several overtures for 
 reconciliation, Jabe maintained an air of injured 
 dignity towards him. This sent poor Lige 
 home also ; and very soon the party melted 
 away, and Jabe was left alone to torment 
 himself with reproaches. 
 
 On his way home Long Ben was full of com- 
 miseration for the disgraced Luke, and began 
 to accuse himself of helping to drive him to 
 the bad. 
 
 There was no half-way house in the Beckside 
 system of ethics, and the boys of the school 
 who showed no inclination to profit by their 
 religious privileges were all described as being 
 on their way " ta th' gallus " ; and so by the
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 51 
 
 time Ben reached home he could already see 
 the unhappy Luke sitting in a condemned cell, 
 and accusing him of driving him to his doom. 
 It was a relief, therefore, to get indoors, for his 
 wife, though given to gentle raillery, was clear- 
 headed and safe in her judgments, and would 
 be almost certain to give him her opinion 
 before she retired to rest. 
 
 But he found Mrs. Ben in a brown study, 
 from which she awoke and glanced at him with 
 a discontented and troubled look as he spoke 
 to her. 
 
 Without replying to an unimportant remark, 
 she arose, and going into the cellar, drew him a 
 pot of foaming dandelion beer. After taking a 
 long swig at it, Ben held the half-empty pot at 
 arm's-length, and making circles with it in the 
 air to rouse its life, he remarked — 
 
 " Aw wunder wot yond' wastril thinks of 
 hissel' ta-neet ? " 
 
 There was no answer, but Mrs. Ben's round 
 face, although almost invisible in the shade, was 
 puckered into ominous frowns. 
 
 Ben waited a while, but as his wife did not 
 respond, he continued — 
 
 " Aw'm feart he'll come ta sum lumber afoor 
 lung." 
 
 " It'll be woss fur thee if he does," jerked out 
 Mrs. Ben sourly. 
 
 Ben caught his breath. He had expected 
 that his wife would relieve the pressure of the
 
 52 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 anxiety he was beginning to feel, and lo ! here 
 she was adding heavily to it. 
 
 But surely she was only trying to frighten 
 him ; and so, with an awkward attempt at indig- 
 nation, to conceal his uneasiness, he asked — 
 
 " Wot'll it be woss fur me fur ? Wot have 
 Aw ta dew wi' it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Ben bent forward and looked dreely at 
 the long-cased clock against the opposite wall, 
 and said very quietly — 
 
 " 'Cause aar Leah loikes him."
 
 Leah's Lover 
 II 
 
 The Course of True Love 
 
 53
 
 Leah's Lover 
 II 
 
 The Course of Frue Love 
 
 Now the word " loike " has undergone a curious 
 reversal or intensification of meaning in its use 
 amongst Lancashire villagers, especially com- 
 pared with the stronger word " love." 
 
 The natural reticence of the North-country- 
 man leads him to avoid the use of " love " 
 whenever possible ; and in Lancashire, " loike," 
 the weaker word, has come to be most commonly 
 used about amatory matters, and expresses the 
 strongest possible affection. 
 
 When, therefore, Mrs. Barber employed this 
 term about her daughter's sentiments towards 
 Luke Yates, there was no room for doubt as to 
 what she meant by it. And if there had been, 
 Mrs. Ben's manner as she made the statement 
 with which the last chapter closed removed any 
 such possibility. 
 
 Poor Ben was simply overwhelmed. Amaze- 
 
 55
 
 56 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 ment, alarm, and profound perplexity took 
 possession of him, and he sat upright in his 
 chair and stared blankly before him in the 
 uttermost consternation. 
 
 It was the last thing in the world he would 
 have expected — so wildly improbable, in fact, 
 that if even his wife had stated it to him under 
 any other circumstances he would have laughed 
 at its utter absurdity. 
 
 He reflected also, when he recovered a little 
 from his first amazement, on what he knew of 
 the quiet intensity underlying the surface still- 
 ness of his eldest daughter's nature, and did 
 not need to be told that, if such an affection 
 had really taken possession of her, neither her 
 own judgment nor any other influences in the 
 world whatsoever would upset it. 
 
 But a union between Leah and Luke was 
 an utter impossibility. They had not a single 
 thing in common, — were, in fact, at extreme 
 opposites in almost all their tastes and sympa- 
 thies ; and how Leah had ever brought herself 
 to give a second thought to such a wild scape- 
 grace he could not imagine. 
 
 Besides, what would people think ? The 
 utter incongruity of the thing would only make 
 it the more exciting and interesting as a subject 
 of gossip ; and Ben already heard the rasping 
 voice of Jabe uttering choice pieces of crabbed, 
 sententious philosophy on his favourite subject — 
 the ways and wiles of women.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 57 
 
 These and many other like thoughts rushed 
 through the slow-moving mind of the carpenter 
 with most unwonted rapidity, and the more he 
 thought the more entangled and terrible did the 
 dilemma appear ; and at length he turned his 
 eyes back upon his wife and gazed at her with 
 helpless stupidity. 
 
 But Mrs. Ben was almost as dumbfounded as 
 her husband, and returned his stare with her 
 round face longer than Ben had ever seen it, 
 and a look of appealing helplessness in her eyes 
 that went to his very heart. 
 
 At length, to break a silence which was fast 
 becoming unbearable, he stammered out — 
 
 " Tha'rt dreamin', woman." 
 
 " Aw wish ta God Aw wur," was the reply, in 
 a wailing tone that drove the iron deeper into 
 Ben's soul. 
 
 " Haa hast fun it aat ? " 
 
 " Aw wur gooin' past her chamber dur an' Aw 
 yerd her prayin'. An', oh ! if thaa 'ad yerd her, 
 Ben" — and the distressed mother broke into 
 sobs that nearly drove Ben wild. 
 
 The parents sat up long that night, talking 
 in fitful snatches of their trouble, and at length 
 Ben took off his Sunday coat, and dropping 
 down in front of his arm-chair, began the usual 
 evening prayer. Like many other such petitions, 
 it had become of late years almost entirely an 
 intercession for the children, who were named 
 to God in turn, but to-night, when Ben came
 
 58 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 to his firstborn and had stammered out, " An', 
 
 Heavenly Fayther, bless Le ■■" he broke 
 
 down, and the two knelt sobbing together 
 on the hearthstone with their newest sorrow 
 weighing heavily on their hearts. 
 
 It goes without saying that neither the 
 carpenter nor his wife slept much that night, 
 for added to all the other difficulties of the case 
 was the fact that they were both somewhat 
 afraid of their quiet daughter, and neither could 
 see how they were going to approach her on the 
 subject. 
 
 " Well, ther's wun consolation," said Mrs. Ben, 
 as they were dressing in the morning. 
 
 "Wot's that?" 
 
 " Hoo may breik her hert abaat it, bud hoo'll 
 ne'er merry him if he isn't religious." 
 
 But Ben, though not so quick and observant 
 as his wife, had a deeper knowledge of his 
 daughter's nature, and remarked — 
 
 " Aar Leah's th' sooart as 'ull merry a chap 
 ta save him — ay, if hoo deed fur it." 
 
 The sigh with which Mrs. Ben responded 
 spoke more eloquently than words could do of 
 her entire endorsement of Ben's opinion now 
 that it had been placed before her, and the two 
 left their bedroom to face the battle of life 
 encumbered by a very heavy anxiety. 
 
 They struggled hard to keep up appearances, 
 especially before Leah, and she, going about 
 her duties as usual, though they watched her
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 59 
 
 with love's keen closeness, gave not the slightest 
 sign that anything was the matter. 
 
 But the shock of the discovery and the sus- 
 pense together were telling very heavily on both 
 the carpenter and his wife, so much so that Ben's 
 looks and manner awakened the curiosity and 
 concern of the Clogger, and placed Ben in an 
 awkward dilemma. If he went to the Clog Shop 
 he was in momentary dread of a straight question 
 which he could not evade, and if he stayed away 
 it was absolutely certain that Jabe would come 
 in search of him and institute rigorous inquisi- 
 tion. The Clogger was already in a state of 
 most restless curiosity, though there was no 
 evidence that he had any suspicion of the cause. 
 Any hour, however, he might take it into his 
 knotty old head to put Ben through a searching 
 cross-examination, or to sound Mrs. Ben on the 
 cause of her husband's depressed and sickly look. 
 To add to Ben's distress, his wife began to press 
 him to speak to Leah about the matter ; and 
 though at first he nearly lost his temper, and 
 utterly refused to do anything of the kind, yet 
 the growing restlessness of the mother and his 
 own anxieties compelled him to admit that the 
 thing must be done somehow. 
 
 Then he delayed and postponed the terrible 
 task on the ground of lack of proper opportunity, 
 every time being the wrong time ; and once, when 
 a chance of unusual favourableness presented 
 itself, he got so very flurried and hastened from
 
 6o BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Leah's presence so abruptly as to make the 
 quiet maiden open her eyes in momentary 
 surprise. 
 
 But Leah was too much occupied with her 
 own affairs to give much thought to her father. 
 Her heart was fighting a severe battle with her 
 principles, and giving her an altogether uncom- 
 fortable time. Ever since that sad Sunday she 
 had been reproaching herself, not for dismissing 
 her clandestine lover, but for not giving him his 
 cofige more kindly. 
 
 She could never admit in her most secret 
 heart that there was any excuse for Luke's 
 conduct, but she began to remind herself that 
 he had had a harsh stepfather, and a sickly 
 mother, who had now been dead for some two 
 years, and that since then he had lived in 
 lodgings. It had only been by a dogged 
 pertinacity which would not be rebuffed that 
 her lover had got on even speaking terms with 
 her since they had been grown up. And then 
 Luke, though disreputable, was very popular 
 somehow with the young women of the village, 
 and might have had many a girl whom she knew. 
 Besides, there must be some good somewhere 
 in a lad who gave such a decided preference to 
 a quiet, religious girl like herself. 
 
 Altogether Leah's mind was greatly disturbed, 
 and to make matters worse, Luke, the irrepres- 
 sible, who could not be snubbed or shaken off 
 either by coldness or ill-treatment, had taken
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 6i 
 
 her at her word for the first time and was 
 keeping carefully out of the way. And worst 
 of all, he had never been to chapel since the day 
 he was expelled from the school. Twice indeed 
 she had seen him pass the house, but he never 
 even turned his head that way. 
 
 One evening, about this time, she was sitting 
 in the parlour skinning rhubarb for rhubarb 
 wine, and meditating abstractedly on her pecu- 
 liar situation, when the front door opened and 
 in stepped her father. 
 
 Now, Ben had told himself twenty times that 
 all he needed was a proper opportunity of 
 speaking with his daughter, and that the fates 
 were most strangely against him ; nevertheless, 
 when he thus came suddenly upon a chance 
 that was unexceptionable, his heart dropped 
 into his clogs, and he would doubtless have 
 retreated but for the fact that it seemed difficult 
 to do so without appearing remarkable, and so, 
 after a guilty start and a moment of hesitation, 
 he sauntered awkwardly into his chair and took 
 refuge in his pipe. 
 
 It was Providence. There was nothing for it 
 but to have it out with Leah ; but when — whilst 
 he was still meditating how to begin — Sally 
 Meadows, one of Leah's fellow Sunday-school 
 teachers, opened the front door and asked Leah 
 to go for a walk, Ben became quite earnest in 
 urging her to accept. Leah quietly excused 
 herself, however; and Ben sank back into his
 
 62 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 chair with a faint look of disappointment and 
 even irritation on his face. 
 
 A minute or two later Leah opened the front 
 door to relieve the air of the room ; and Ben got 
 up a little debate with himself as to whether it 
 would be proper to discuss such delicate matters 
 as were in his mind with an open door, but 
 he could not quite convince himself that the 
 interview ought to be postponed, and so, after 
 fidgeting in his chair and furtively eyeing Leah 
 over until he had taken a complete inventory of 
 her garments, he finally coughed, cleared his 
 throat, turned his head round and glanced 
 uneasily through the window, and then 
 commenced — 
 
 " Thaa leuks badly, wench. Artna weel ? " 
 
 " Yi, Aw'm reet enuff," answered Leah, com- 
 posedly, but with an alert little glance at her 
 father out of the corner of her eye. 
 
 " Then thaa must be i' luv. Hast started o' 
 cooartin' ? " 
 
 Ben said this with an attempt at jocularity, 
 but a slight choking sound in his throat 
 betrayed him to Leah's anxious ears, and in a 
 moment her white face had become a rich 
 crimson. She felt she was blushing, and betray- 
 ing herself, which only made the colour deepen 
 on her face and neck, and she made a feeble 
 little effort to save herself. 
 
 " Eh, fayther, haa yo' talk. Yo' mak' me goa 
 red."
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 63 
 
 "Wheerther's smook ther's feire," said Ben, 
 still keeping up a show of fun, but with strange 
 nippings about the heart. 
 
 Leah started to her feet with confusion and 
 fear. Another moment and she would have to 
 choose between an impossible falsehood and an 
 equally impossible confession. The picture she 
 had conjured up in her mind of her father's 
 horror, if ever he discovered to whom she had 
 given her heart, filled her with dismay. There 
 was nothing for it but to flee. In another moment 
 she would have been safe in her bedroom, but 
 Ben suddenly crossed the floor, dropped heavily 
 into the mother's chair by her side, and faltered 
 out — 
 
 " Leah, my hert tells me as ther's summat 
 wrung. Naa, wot is it, wench, wot is it ? " 
 
 Leah worshipped her father, and this un- 
 wonted tenderness in his tone moved her 
 profoundly. She went white to the lips, gasped 
 a little for breath, her head fell on her heaving 
 bosom, she began to pick nervously at the hem 
 of her apron, but never a word could she get 
 out. 
 
 Ben, with shaking hand, laid down his pipe, 
 drew his chair nearer to hers, and Leah trembled 
 to feel her father's arm slowly stealing round 
 her slim waist. Lancashire folk are always very 
 sparing of caresses and tender words, and Leah 
 never remembered her father treating her like 
 this before. She struggled feebly to escape, but
 
 64 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 he held her tight, drew her still closer to him, 
 and then murmured — 
 
 " Aw dunna want ta meddle, thaa knows, bud 
 tha'rt t' leet o' my een, wench. Wot's up wi' 
 thee?" 
 
 A convulsive shudder went through Leah's 
 frame ; she made a supreme effort, turned her 
 face, white but resolute, to her father, and look- 
 ing him full in the face, said — 
 
 " Fayther, Aw'm niver goin' fur t' merry. 
 Niver ! soa dunna fret abaat me," and then with 
 a sudden wrench she tore herself from her 
 father's grasp and fled to her own little bedroom. 
 
 Ben heaved a great sigh, fell back into his 
 chair, and groaning, " Lord, help us," closed his 
 eyes in troubled reflection. 
 
 He had got more out of his daughter than he 
 expected, and what he had learnt confirmed his 
 worst apprehensions. 
 
 Just at that moment he heard the garden gate 
 click and a limping footstep come up the garden. 
 Then the door opened, and Jabe, looking very 
 resolute and aggressive, stepped across the 
 threshold. 
 
 " Oh, tha'rt theer arta ? Wot art mopesin' i' 
 th' haase fur ? " he demanded, glaring fiercely at 
 his friend, but Ben only handed the tobacco-box 
 and sat staring before him. 
 
 Jabe suspected that Ben's continued depression 
 had a financial origin, and he glanced round the 
 room and through the door into the kitchen in
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 65 
 
 search of Mrs. Ben, who was always his chief 
 supporter in his periodical attacks upon the 
 carpenter for allowing people to get into his 
 debt. But his ally was nowhere to be seen, and 
 Jabe was constrained to go to the battle alone. 
 After puffing away in grim silence for a few 
 moments, staring hard the while at a fancy shoe- 
 horn hanging at the side of the mantelpiece, he 
 demanded, without deigning to turn his head — 
 
 " Haa lung is it sin' Jerry Mopper paid thee 
 owt ? " 
 
 " Setterday," was all the response Ben gave. 
 
 " Haa mitch does that leave ? " 
 
 " Nowt." 
 
 Jabe turned his head half round for a moment, 
 and an expression of surprise escaped him, and 
 then he relapsed once more into an earnest con- 
 templation of the shoe-horn. If Jerry Mopper 
 had at last paid off his long-standing account, 
 Ben could not be troubled about finances. But 
 Ben had never before even attempted to con- 
 ceal any other of his troubles from him. His 
 curiosity increased, and with it came a feeling 
 of resentment softened by a vague apprehension 
 of some unknown calamity impending over the 
 Barbers. And so the two sat in silence, each 
 apparently oblivious of the other's presence, 
 Ben longing to unbosom himself, and yet 
 terrified at the thought of such a thing, and 
 Jabe piqued, puzzled, and increasingly uneasy 
 at his friend's most unusual manner. 
 
 5
 
 66 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 The silence continued, and the shoe-horn 
 would have blushed if it could under the fierce, 
 annihilating stare of the Clogger. At last, 
 however, Jabe could hold no longer, and rising 
 to his feet, still glaring at the shoe-horn, he 
 cried, with scornful sarcasm — 
 
 " Ther's ta mitch neyse here fur me. Aw'll 
 goa wheer it's quieter," and with his nose very- 
 high in the air he stalked stiffly out of the house. 
 
 Left to himself, Ben was more miserable than 
 ever. And though he followed the Clogger 
 after awhile to the shop, and tried to atone 
 for his conduct by taking some interest in the 
 conversation, yet being compelled to leave early 
 lest Jabe should reopen the inquisition, he went 
 away, feeling that for the first time for nearly 
 thirty years a shadow had come between him 
 and his old friend. 
 
 Several weeks passed after this, and still there 
 was no change in the situation, except that 
 Luke, the cause of all the trouble, had removed 
 to Clough End to lodge, although he still worked 
 at the mill. Meanwhile Leah went about her 
 work just as usual, but although Ben noticed it, 
 and took it as a hojDeful sign, Mrs. Ben's sharper 
 eyes showed her that her daughter was still 
 feeling her trouble. 
 
 She grew paler still, and very nervous. Her 
 mother would come upon her gazing out of the 
 window with a painfully abstracted look, and 
 once she caught her hurriedly wiping her eyes.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 67 
 
 Anxious for her daughter's health, Mrs. Barber 
 now began to invent errands for Leah which 
 would take her into the open air, and comforted 
 herself with the thought that it seemed like 
 doing Leah good. 
 
 One evening later in the summer Leah had 
 been sent to Lamb Fold with a basket of fruit 
 and eggs for her grandmother. Lamb Fold was 
 on the hill on the other side of the Beck, and 
 the road to it ran along Shaving Lane, and over 
 a plank bridge a quarter of a mile higher up the 
 Clough than the village. 
 
 The evening was soft and calm, and Leah, as 
 she returned, was beginning to forget herself in 
 the sweet stillness about her. Just as she had 
 reached the home side of the plank a stick 
 snapped just before her, and lifting her head 
 quickly, she found herself face to face with 
 Luke, who had evidently been crouched behind 
 a gate-post and perhaps waiting for her. 
 
 Leah started Vv'ith a bitter cry, and looked 
 hastily about for a way of escape, but Luke was 
 too quick for her, and stepping between her and 
 the little bridge, effectually barred the passage 
 in that direction. 
 
 A flash of haughtiness came into the girl's 
 eyes, and she lifted them to Luke's face as if to 
 annihilate him. 
 
 But Luke's face was such a roguish, laughing, 
 irresistible one, and withal had at any rate such 
 an appearance of open frankness, that the
 
 68 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 moment her eyes and his met, her anger began 
 to fade, and a helpless, almost foolish feeling 
 took possession of her. 
 
 " Wot dust want ? " she asked faintly, as if out 
 of breath. 
 
 "Want, wench? Aw want thee," and then 
 suddenly seeming to see more in his own words 
 than he had intended, he went on. " Ay, that's 
 just wot Aw dew want, ta mak' me a gradely 
 mon. If Aw hed thee. Aw could be a dacent 
 chap. Aw could be a Methody ; ay, if tha'd a 
 moind thaa could mak' me into a, a — cherubim," 
 and Luke laughed at the unexpected brilliance 
 of his own fancy. 
 
 There was a momentary pause, and then 
 Leah said — 
 
 " Aw yer tha's started o' drinkin'." 
 
 Luke seemed to be about to deny this, but a 
 second thought striking him, he said — 
 
 " An' wot if Aw hev ? Aw've nowt else ta 
 dew wi' my brass. Aw've noa whoam ta goa 
 tew an' noa muther and noa sister nor 
 noabry." 
 
 Quick stabs of pity and self-reproach pricked 
 at Leah's tender heart. She paused a moment 
 to obtain control of herself, and then she said as 
 calmly as she was able — 
 
 " If thaa wants me, whey dust keep gettin' i' 
 sich lumber? " 
 
 " Lumber ? it's nowt but marlockin', Thaa 
 talks as if it wur lyin' or thievin', or summat,"
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 69 
 
 and Luke put on an excellent imitation of 
 injured innocence. 
 
 Leah felt herself giving \va\', and taking 
 alarm thereat, she said — 
 
 " Aw've towd thi mony a toime as Aw shanna 
 merry onybody as isn't a Christian. Aw darna 
 if Aw wanted. 
 
 And now Luke seemed to be really annoyed. 
 
 " Ay," he cried, " if Aw'd start o' sniggering, 
 an' pooin' a fiddle face, an' gooin' up to th' 
 penitent form, tha'd ha' me. Bud, Leah," he 
 cried, flaming up and looking really handsome, 
 Leah thought, in his indignation, — " Aw'd dew 
 fur thee wot Aw wouldna dew fur aw th' wold 
 beside. Aw'd work fur thee, Aw'd slave fur 
 thee, Aw'd dee fur thee, bud Aw winna be a 
 hypocryte even fur thee. If Aw'm iver con- 
 varted it ull be a gradely convarsion, wun as 
 Aw should be satisfied wi' mysel', an' not a 
 woman-catching dodge." 
 
 But Leah scarcely heard the last sentences. 
 Her woman's pride was touched, and so, drawing 
 herself up with a look of proud disdain, she 
 asked in cold surprise — 
 
 " Wot art botherin' abaat, then ? " 
 
 But Luke's excitement had vanished as 
 quickly as it came, and dropping once more 
 into his old wheedling tones, — the most danger- 
 ous of all his moods to Leah, — he said earnestly — 
 
 "■ Leah ! Aw loike thi that weel, Aw'm feart 
 o' mysel'. When Aw see thi Aw want ta goa
 
 70 BFXKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 reet oft^ to th' penitent form ta get thi. An' 
 tliat ud be wuss nor aw. Leah, little, bonny, 
 breet-eecl Leah, tak' me as Aw am." 
 - As Luke spoke, and his passion increased, he 
 drew gradually nearer to her, and as he finished 
 he suddenly raised his arms, and in another 
 moment would have had her in his embrace, but 
 just then a couple of strollers came round the 
 top corner of the lane, and Leah, seeing them, 
 stepped back just in time, as she thought, to 
 save appearances, whilst Luke, suddenly check- 
 ing himself, and realising that he must not 
 compromise his sweetheart in the eyes of the 
 villagers, jumpeS the hedge, scudded off into 
 the fields behind, and was gone.
 
 Leah's Lover 
 
 III 
 
 A New Finger in the Pie 
 
 zi
 
 Leah's Lover 
 III 
 
 A New Finger in the Pie 
 
 Now the couple whose sudden appearance 
 round the corner of Shaving Lane had brought 
 Luke and Leah's interview to such an abrupt 
 termination, happened to be Johnty Ilarrop and 
 his wide-awake httle wife, whom our readers 
 have met before in these chronicles, Johnty, 
 of course, saw nothing", and was not even aware 
 of Leah's presence in the lane until the}' actually 
 met her on the way home, when the unsuspect- 
 ing "Minder" glanced at her and remarked, 
 when she had passed, that Leah was losing her 
 good looks. 
 
 But Mrs. Johnty had seen, trust her for that, 
 and was so absorbed in what she had observed, 
 that she did not seem to hear what her husband 
 was saying. She was amazed. The little scene 
 was a revelation to her. As the next - door 
 neighbour of the Barbers, she saw a good deal 
 
 73
 
 74 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 of them, and, being a kind little soul, had got of 
 late somewhat deep into Mrs. Ben's confidence. 
 They had talked over the flag fence of the front 
 garden, and over the low wall at the back, and 
 once or twice of late Mrs. Ben had dropped 
 hints about being worried about Leah ; and 
 Susy, whilst very sympathetic, had felt that her 
 friend's anxiety was oddly out of proportion to 
 any change she could perceive in Leah. And 
 the thing, though she had not dwelt much upon 
 it, had puzzled her. 
 
 Now it was clear as noonday. She only 
 knew Luke by sight, but she was well aware 
 of his reputation, and realised what an inap- 
 propriate match it would be, and what scandal 
 would be caused in the village if it ever came to 
 anything. 
 
 And with Susy to think was to act. Her 
 sympathies w^ent out strongly towards Mrs. Ben 
 and her husband, though she was young enough 
 to feel very tenderly towards Leah. She won- 
 dered how much Mrs. Ben knew. Had she 
 any idea that her daughter was thus entangled ? 
 And especially did she know to whom Leah 
 had given her heart? Or was she only uneasy 
 about Leah's manner and sickly looks ? She 
 must be careful if she tried to help them lest 
 she did more harm than good ; and having not 
 so very long since had secrets of her owm, she 
 felt she must be as kind and helpful as possible 
 to such a " noice quiet wench " as Leah. At any
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 75 
 
 rate she would keep the secret, unless she found 
 she could use it to good purpose, and in the 
 meantime she would get all the information she 
 could. 
 
 It seemed difficult to do anything with the 
 Barbers at present, so she would begin on the 
 easier task of getting to know something definite 
 about Luke. Her unsuspicious husband was, 
 of course, easily drawn, and before she got 
 home from their little stroll she had ascer- 
 tained his view of the case as far as Luke was 
 concerned. 
 
 Johnty commenced by calling Luke a "gallus 
 young wastril," at which, of course, Susy was 
 not surprised, though she affected to be. On 
 being deftly led out into particulars, however, 
 the Minder became very hazy, and, after contra- 
 dicting himself several times, he explained — 
 
 " He's nor a gradely bad un, thaa knows ; 
 nowt o' th' sooart. Bud he's that mischeevious." 
 
 "Wot's he dQw at th' shop [mill]?" asked 
 Susy. 
 
 " He's a mechanic." 
 
 " Then he'll mak' good wages, winnot he ? " 
 
 " Oh ay, an' he owt dew. He's nobbut twenty- 
 one, but he's th' best mechanic abaat th' place." 
 
 " It's a pity he wur turnt aat o' th' schoo' ; 
 he'll happen goa wrung." 
 
 " Nay, nor him. He's plenty o' sense, Luke 
 has, on'y he's so gammy wi' it. As for them 
 owd jockeys at th' Clog Shop, they durn't know
 
 76 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 ivvery thing by a foine soight. ]]ut," he went on, 
 suddenly remembering himself, " what dust want 
 ta know fur ? " 
 
 Jiut Susy very easily put Johnty off, and went 
 to bed to make plans for extending the range of 
 her inquiries. 
 
 During the next few days she gathered a great 
 deal of information. By assuming tentatively a 
 censorious tone towards Luke, and commending 
 the action of the Sunday-school authorities, she 
 drew out of her unsuspecting neighbours many 
 interesting particulars. Luke was a " wik un 
 if iver ther' war wun," " a marlockin', pace- 
 eggin' young imp," and so on. Some of the 
 victims of Luke's mischievous pranks used 
 language that ought not to have been employed 
 to a lady, and which of course cannot be written 
 down here. It was clear that Luke was the 
 ringleader of all the mischief and practical 
 joking in the neighbourhood, and a very sad 
 character altogether. When questioned, how- 
 ever, on the more strictly moral aspects of 
 Luke's character, her informants showed con- 
 siderable hesitation and difference of opinion, 
 and most agreed that the expulsion from the 
 school was an extreme step. 
 
 Now Mrs. Johnty had more than her share of 
 woman's secret^ admiration for a young fellow 
 who was " lively," and had herself suffered much 
 by misrepresentation. She really could get at 
 nothing very wicked in Luke's character, and
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 77 
 
 so before long she had conceived quite a 
 prejudice in his favour, and was beginning to 
 range herself on his side. 
 
 At last she found herself in conversation with 
 old Mary Jane, with whom Luke had lodged 
 previous to his recent removal to Clough End. 
 She overtook the old woman coming from the 
 mangle, and carried her basket for her. As they 
 approached Susy's house she invited her in to 
 rest and have " a sooap o' tay," which invitation 
 Mary Jane promptly accepted. 
 
 " Yo'll ha' some peace naa yond' wild good- 
 fur-nowt's left, Aw reacon, Murry Jane," Susy 
 began, watching her visitor as she did so. 
 
 "Peace ! wot dust meean? Whoa art talkin' 
 abaat ? " 
 
 " Whey, that Luke. He led yo' a bonny life 
 Aw reacon." 
 
 Mary Jane's mouth had opened in astonish- 
 ment and perplexity at Susy's words, but it 
 suddenly closed like a trap, her lips tightened, 
 and pausing with the teacup in one hand and 
 the saucer in the other, she said slowly — 
 
 " If them as runs him daan and turns him aat 
 wur hawf as gooid, they'd be a foine soight 
 better 'an they are." 
 
 " Hay, Murry Jane, haa yo' talken. Whey, 
 they aw say as he's a hard-herted young 
 wastril." 
 
 " Hard-herted ! Sithee, wench, his hert's as 
 sawft as a woman's. When Aw wur badly with
 
 78 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 pains Aw've seen him ston' o'er me, an' skrike 
 loike a chilt. He's bowt me mony an' mony a 
 bottle o' Eli's drops," 
 
 " Aw reacon he paid yo' weel," said I\Irs. 
 Johnty, suspecting a possible mercenary motive 
 for the old woman's praises and regrets. 
 
 " Paid me ! Ay, he did that ! Bud Aw'd ha' 
 kept him fur nowt if he'd ha' stopped. He wur 
 a foine soight better tew me nor me own, Aw 
 con tell thi." 
 
 " Bud wot did he leeave th' village fur ? " 
 asked Susy. 
 
 Mary Jane paused a moment, dropped into a 
 low, confidential tone, and proceeded — 
 
 " Aw'll tell thi, wench. He ne'er thowt 
 they'd a turnt him aat o' th' schoo'. An' v\hen 
 they did, he wur that takken to, he wur fair 
 shawmed of hissel'. He wur that ill off abaat 
 it, he couldn't abide. It mak's me badly ta 
 think haa he leuked when he thowt Aw 
 wurn't watching him." 
 
 " It's a wunder he's ne'er started o' cooartin' 
 — bud whoa'd hev him ? " remarked Susy. 
 
 " Hev him ? Bless thi, they wur niver off 
 th' dur - step, if they thowt he wur abaat. 
 An' Aw' durn't wonder, if they know'd him 
 as weel as Aw dew, they'd ha' bin feightin' 
 fur him." 
 
 Much more to the same purpose was said, and 
 when Mary Jane resumed her journey home, 
 with two of Susy's hot tea-cakes in her clothes-.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 79 
 
 basket, she left behind her a little woman who 
 was almost as stout a supporter of Luke as she 
 was herself. Still, in such a case, in which 
 there was so pronounced a difference of opinion 
 in the village, it was necessary to be very care- 
 ful, and to get all the light possible, and so 
 she decided that she must get acquainted some- 
 how with Luke himself, and make a personal 
 study of him. But how? She did not see her 
 way at all at first, and it was a day or two 
 before she could decide what to do. 
 
 One evening, however, when Johnty came 
 home from his work, he found his little wife in 
 a state of impatience and distress. Her sewing 
 machine had broken down. Such implements 
 were comparatively rare at that time, and there 
 was no person in Beckside or the neighbourhood 
 who could be called in to do repairs. Hitherto 
 Johnty, who, as a minder, had considerable 
 knowledge of machinery, had served his wife's 
 purpose, and of course, as soon as he had had 
 his " baggin'," he had to set to work on the 
 broken sewing machine. In a few minutes 
 all was apparently right again, and Susy set to 
 work afresh. Most provokingly the machine 
 went wrong again, and as often as Johnty 
 repaired it, so often did it break down again 
 after a minute or two's working. 
 
 " Is ther' noabry else abaat as understands 
 sewing machines ? " asked Susy at last in a well- 
 dissembled tone of despair. Johnty could think
 
 8o BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 of nobody, and laughed when Susy suggested 
 Nathan the smith. 
 
 " Is ther' noabry at th' shop [mill] as is handy 
 an' Oliver?" she asked, with a show of great 
 impatience. 
 
 " Neaw," answered her husband, — considering 
 slowly as he spoke, — " noabry bud Luke Yates." 
 
 " Him ! " cried Susy, with apparently most 
 genuine scorn. But presently, after suggesting 
 two or three improbable persons, she said, with 
 a clever simulation of reluctance — 
 
 "Well, Aw mun hev it done, chuse haa. 
 Bring him tew his baggin' ta-morra neet. He 
 winna eight [eat] us. Aw reacon." 
 
 Johnty promised to do so. Next night Luke 
 was brought, and though shy and awkward at 
 first, the beguiling chatter of the Minder's wife 
 soon set him at his ease, and he laughed and 
 joked and told stories until the disabled machine 
 seemed in danger of being entirely forgotten. 
 
 Presently, however, Johnty suggested an 
 examination, and Luke brought all his 
 mechanical resources to bear on the matter. 
 Now, Johnty could not for the life of him see 
 that the young mechanic had done anything to 
 the machine but what he had already done 
 himself. But, strange to say, it worked without 
 the slightest inclination to relapse, and the 
 audacious Susy actually chaffed her husband on 
 his deplorable lack of skill. This, of course, 
 had its effect on Luke, who stayed on and
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 8i 
 
 chatted, and still stayed, until Susy really 
 couldn't send him away without supper. And 
 as the meal was a very tasty one and very much 
 to Johnty's tooth, he ate it and joked about it, 
 and then actually went and saw Luke part of 
 the way home to Clough End without even the 
 glimmer of an idea that his wife had been, as he 
 would have termed it, " bamboozling " him. 
 
 Susy's mind was now made up. She had 
 taken her measure of Luke, and honestly liked 
 him. If possible, he should have his rights in 
 popular esteem at any rate. The Barbers should 
 know what he was like. 
 
 " My machine's aw reet naa," she said to 
 Leah's mother over the flag fence the following 
 night. " Aar Johnty browt Luke Yates tew it, 
 an' he put it reet in a jiffy, — hay, but he's a cliver 
 lad wi' his fingers." 
 
 Mrs. Ben gave a slight start, and glanced 
 suspiciously at Susy, whose face at that moment 
 would have disarmed a detective. 
 
 " He's cliver at aw mak' o' mischief, Aw know 
 that," was the sharp answer. 
 
 " Ay ! Aw reacon soa," sighed Mrs. Johnty 
 in affected sympathy with her neighbour. " Bud 
 yo'd ne'er think soa. A dacenter behaved lad 
 Aw wouldna wish ta see i' my haase." 
 
 Mrs. Ben was listening with an almost 
 painful interest, and the crafty Susy continued 
 with studious deliberateness — 
 
 " Ther's wun thing abaat him ; he burs na
 
 S- BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 in.ilice. lie si")ak' weel o' booath Jabc an' yore 
 Ben last neet. Them's foine dahlias o' yo'rs, 
 Ellen." 
 
 "Ay," sighed Mrs. Ben, glancing indifferently 
 at the flowers ; " bud the}' sa\' as he's a weary 
 bad un." 
 
 " He's nobbut a bit gallus, full o' gam an' 
 sich loike," replied Susy, tossing her head with 
 careless impatience. " Aw wouldna give a 
 bodle fur a young felley as hadn't a d/t In 
 him ; but Aw mun be goin' i' th' haase." 
 
 " Aw'm feart he'll turn aat badly," replied Mrs. 
 Barber anxiously, and stepping nearer to the 
 fence, as if by that means to detain her neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 "Well, ^wdur tak' him; so theer," rejoined 
 Susy with sudden energy. " He's gooid wages, 
 an' aar Johnty says as he'll be th' yed mechanic 
 afoor lung, and owd Murry Jane says as he's 
 better tew her nor her own. An' that's gooid 
 enuff fur me. Gooid -neet, wench," and, with 
 this last heavy shot, Susan retreated indoors, 
 with a conviction that she had not entirely 
 laboured in vain. 
 
 And she was right, for Mrs. Ben, ready to do 
 anything to relieve the tension of anxiety, soon 
 instituted inquiries on her own account, and told 
 all she discovered to her husband, only to find 
 out, from a slip in Ben's speech, that he had 
 been at the same employment, and was well up 
 in all the details of Luke's character and career.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 83 
 
 As the carpenter sat thinking by the fireside, 
 just before retiring to rest one night, Mrs, Ben 
 came and sat opposite to him, and, whilst darn- 
 ing away at a heap of stockings, began to collect 
 her thoughts, with a view of coming to some 
 understanding, if possible. 
 
 *' Ben, dust think aar Leah's getten th' 
 decline? " she said, looking up at him anxiously. 
 
 Ben winced, for this was the very question he 
 was trying to settle for himself at the moment 
 his wife spoke. But now he belied his own 
 apprehensions by answering shortly — ■ 
 
 " Neaw." 
 
 " Hoo will be afoor lung if things doesn't 
 awter;" and there was a moan in Mrs. Ben's 
 usually cheery tones. 
 
 But Ben saw no way out of the difficult)^ so 
 he sat in silence and stared sadly before him. 
 
 They sat in the candle-light for a long time 
 without speaking, and then Ben said — 
 
 " If hoo has him wee'st lose her, and if hoo 
 doesn't have him wee'st lose her. Hay, dear, 
 my hert's welly brokken ! " 
 
 The mother began to sob quietly, and Ben 
 looked at her with a strong inclination to do the 
 same. 
 
 The difficulty to them was very real. They 
 could have brought themselves, and in fact had 
 brought themselves, to accept Luke as a member 
 of their own family, but when all personal likes 
 and dislikes had been <jot over there remained
 
 84 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 still the religious aspect of the case. The 
 command was to them clear and unalterable 
 that neither they nor theirs were to be unequally 
 joked together with unbelievers. How could 
 they fly in the face of a plain Divine precept, 
 and how could they expect to prosper if they 
 did ? They could retire from the case, of course, 
 and leave Leah to bear the onus of it herself, 
 but that would be exposing her to a great 
 temptation, and laying upon her a grave 
 responsibility. As it was, they did share her 
 burden, and were resolved to do so to the end. 
 Ben, indeed, thought desperately more than 
 once of breaking away from all religious 
 scruples and commanding his daughter to 
 marry Luke, thus taking the whole responsi- 
 bility on himself, and saving Leah's soul at the 
 expense of his own. But this mood passed also, 
 and after another long silence Mrs. Ben said — 
 
 " Young wenches allis feels as they wanten ta 
 dew wot they're towd they munna dew. It's 
 happen o' thatunce wi' aar Leah. When hoo 
 knows hoo can pleease hersel' hoo'll happen nor 
 be so keen on it." 
 
 " Ellen," replied Ben, " tha knows aar Leah 
 better tin that. If hoo geet wed an' lost her 
 soul, Aw should feel as if Aw'd scrambled inta 
 heaven o'er her distruction. Tha can pleease 
 thisel', but moind thi, if owt comes on it. Aw 
 want th' blame ta faw on uz an' nor on her." 
 
 And so the conversation ended, but next day,
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 85 
 
 as Leah seemed rather paler than usual, her 
 mother resolved that she should know their 
 minds on the subject whatever the consequences. 
 But humble people have often to resort to 
 strange awkward ways of expressing them.selves 
 when the matter is one on which they feel 
 deeply, and so as she was sending Leah out on 
 a few errands, she said — 
 
 "An' caw at Jabe's an' see if aar Simeon's 
 clugs is done ; an', fur goodness sake, wench, 
 dunna leuk sa mitch loike a lump o' stoan ! 
 Thaa mak's me fair miserable. If thaa wants 
 Luke, tak' him, and ha' done wi' it," and before 
 the startled girl could answer she had pushed 
 her out of the door into the front garden that 
 she might not see her mother's painful break- 
 down. 
 
 Now, this was perhaps the most important 
 communication that Ellen Barber had ever 
 made to her daughter, and it may seem that she 
 did it in a very clumsy way. But it was her 
 way. Awkward and bungling it may have 
 been, but its awkwardness was the measure of 
 its eloquence, and to Leah it spoke of a great 
 effort, and a great sacrifice, which were the 
 expressions of a wonderful love. 
 
 Leah was profoundly moved, and had to 
 linger in the garden with her head down among 
 the flowers for some time before she dared to go 
 forth on her business. She put a severe restraint 
 upon herself as she went about the village, and
 
 86 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 it was quite necessary, for rumours that slie was 
 "in decline" had been commonly circulated, 
 and gave her acquaintances a painful sort of 
 interest in looking at her. 
 
 When her errands were done and she was 
 approaching home, she turned in at the end of 
 Shaving Lane nearly opposite her father's work- 
 shop, and in a few minutes was standing near 
 the autumn-tinted hedge, on the very spot where 
 she had had her last interview with Luke. 
 With her back to the lane, and her face look- 
 ing up the Clough, she gave full play to her 
 thoughts. 
 
 The law as to marriage with unbelievers, 
 which, according to Beckside canons of inter- 
 pretation, meant all non-church members, was 
 clear and uncompromising, and the more she 
 thought of it the clearer and more inexorable it 
 became, and never in the whole of the terrible 
 struggle through which she was now passing did 
 she allow that to be obscured for so much as a 
 moment. That by accepting Luke she would 
 be breaking this law, was distinctly recognised. 
 
 On the other hand, her heart was as full as 
 ever of a deep and quenchless love for Luke. 
 How it came there she could not imagine. It 
 had been a constant amazement to herself, and 
 more than once she had tried to convince herself 
 that it was Providence. Then she realised that 
 the thought was a snare of the devil, and 
 resolutely repressed it and cast it out of her
 
 LEAH'S LOVER S7 
 
 heart. For some time after their last hitcrview 
 she did not admit to herself even the possibility 
 of renewing the intercourse. Her remembrance 
 of how soon she might have yielded to the im- 
 passioned Luke frightened her. 
 
 But she had scarcely seen Luke since that 
 last struggle. Oh, where was he ! And then 
 she was startled to discover that the suggestion 
 that he did not care a great deal for her gave 
 her much strange pain. And then, though she 
 had not seen much of her lover, she had heard, 
 and what she had heard deepened her distress. 
 She could not forget the rumour about Luke 
 beginning to drink, and she recalled with fresh 
 pain the remembrance that when she charged 
 him with it he had not denied it. More recently 
 she had been told that there had been an atheist 
 lecturer at Clough End, and that conspicuous 
 amongst the little handful who went to hear 
 him was Luke. He had several times, in 
 pleading with her, threatened to " run th' 
 country," and only yesterday she had heard that 
 he was preparing to emigrate to America. 
 What if she had driven him to this? And 
 what if he went away from Beckside and got 
 amongst wild, lawless people at the ends of the 
 earth ? 
 
 Oh, if only they had never turned him out of 
 the school ! Surely, with all his associations 
 and attachments to the chapel and chapel folk, 
 it might not have been difficult to draw him in.
 
 S8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 But she knew by this time that Luke, under 
 all his froHcsomeness, had a proud heart, and 
 a strong, masterful will, and that he would 
 probably never come back to the chapel unless 
 she took him. She was perfectly certain he had 
 a good heart, and good principles, as far as mere 
 morality went, though morality apart from grace 
 was of little account in Beckside theology. In 
 fact, it was generally regarded as a dangerous 
 form of worldly pride and hypocrisy. 
 
 By this time her agitation became so uncon- 
 trollable that she feared to be suddenly dis- 
 covered by a passer-by, and so, yielding to her 
 own restlessness, she crossed the plank bridge, 
 and v,-alked slowly up the field walk to Lamb 
 Fold. There she turned back, and as the 
 body turned the mind did the same, and she 
 went once more over all the arguments for and 
 against accepting Luke. 
 
 As she returned to the place she had left half 
 an hour before, she began to recall stories of 
 female self-sacrifice of which she had read in the 
 books of the Sunday-school library, but could 
 not remember a case in the least like her own. 
 Once more Luke's spiritual condition came 
 before her, and the terrible risk of sending him 
 adrift on the world in his present reckless and 
 unregenerate mood. 
 
 Then the thought of self-sacrifice for a beloved 
 one, the sweetest thought that ever touches the 
 deep heart of woman, came once more into her
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 89 
 
 mind, and seemed sweeter and more beautiful 
 than ever. And at last, leaning heavily against 
 the stone gate-post near her, and, dropping her 
 head on the crossbar of the gate, she cried — 
 
 " Is it my soul fur his. Lord? Then let it be 
 his. If Tha'll let me bring him safe to heaven, 
 Thaa can shut th' dur ageean me — if — if — if 
 Thaa con!' 
 
 And then the passion subsided. A calm 
 almost more terrifying to Leah than her former 
 agitation took possession of her, and she went 
 home convinced that she was going to commit 
 the unpardonable sin, but that she was going to 
 save Luke, 
 
 Two days later she had consented to marry 
 him.
 
 Leah's Lover 
 IV 
 
 Better than Her Fears 
 
 01
 
 Leah's Lover 
 
 IV 
 
 Better Than Her Fears 
 
 But Leah's battle was not over when she had 
 
 given her consent to marry. The stony calm 
 
 which existed within her from the time she 
 
 decided to accept Luke until the moment when 
 
 she told him so, or, perhaps, more exactly, the 
 
 moment she was alone after she had told him 
 
 so, vanished as quickly as it came, and for the 
 
 next day or two she would have given worlds to 
 
 recall her consent. 
 
 But Luke evidently knew with whom he had 
 
 to deal, and for a lovesick swain showed a most 
 
 singular reluctance to see his sweetheart He 
 
 was " ter'ble busy," he explained hurriedly, when 
 
 Leah, four or five days after her consent, sought 
 
 him out. He had been " puttin' th' axins in " 
 
 for the marriage, and would be compelled to be 
 
 absent a good deal just now in order to conform 
 
 to the law with regard to the question of 
 da
 
 94 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 residence. It was onl\- years later that Leah 
 learned that the\' had bLcn married by special 
 licence. 
 
 Besides, Luke urged, he was " up to th' een 
 i' furnishing, an' hadn't toime for nowt." 
 
 Then he took to sending little notes to her, 
 using Johnty Harrop the "minder" as his 
 messenger, and Leah, remembei'ing his school- 
 boy handwriting, was astonished at the bold, 
 dashing caligraphy of the missives, and half 
 suspected him of employing an amanuensis. 
 And yet she didn't see how he could. 
 
 The marriage was, of course, a profound secret, 
 and Luke seemed to take a most characteristic 
 pleasure in the fact that the affair was to be, in 
 appearance at any rate, an elopement. On the 
 few occasions when they did get conversation 
 together, Leah was so preoccupied with desire 
 to draw back from her promise that she never 
 thought of inquiring what arrangements Luke 
 was making as to house, furniture, etc., and 
 Luke, as she pressed him for release, generally 
 sought safety in flight, and brought the interview 
 to an abrupt termination. 
 
 Consequently, when they got into the week on 
 the Saturday of which the wedding was to take 
 place, Leah literally knew nothing of what would 
 be done when the ceremony was over, and was 
 still so preoccupied with her own internal con- 
 flict that scarcely a thought of the future passed 
 through her mind.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 95 
 
 The Friday came, the last day of Leah's 
 maidenhood. She was to meet her lover that 
 night at the end of her father's woodshed, and 
 all day long she was collecting her little personal 
 possessions together one minute, and rehearsing 
 the last passionate appeal she intended to make 
 to Luke for release the next ; and as evening 
 drew near her agitation became almost painful, 
 and the hour of tryst seemed as though it would 
 never come. 
 
 Presently, however, she stole out of the back 
 door, trying to nerve herself for what she knew 
 would be a severe struggle, and was just stepping 
 softly towards the yard through the darkness 
 when she heard herself called. She stopped. 
 It was not Luke's voice ; it was a woman's. 
 Before she could speak she heard a light footfall 
 near her, and an instant later Mrs. Johnty 
 Harrop's plump little arms were thrown around 
 her, a letter was thrust into her hand, a hot little 
 face, wet with sympathetic tears, was pressed 
 against hers, and a caressing voice murmured, 
 " God bless thi, wench ! tha's nowt ta fear," then 
 the arms unentwined themselves, there was a 
 flutter of receding skirts, and in a moment Leah 
 was alone again. 
 
 A minute or two later she was up in her own 
 little bedroom, reading Luke's letter with the 
 aid of a candle. 
 
 The epistle was rather longer than usual. It 
 stated that Luke found that it would be impos-
 
 96 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 sible to carry out their arrangements, except by 
 going himself to Whipham on Thursday after- 
 noon. He had therefore done so. She was to 
 follow by Saturday morning's coach to Duxbury, 
 and then by train to Whipham, where he would 
 meet her. Some other directions were given, 
 and then the letter concluded — 
 
 " Keep your heart up, my bonny wench. In 
 a week's time you shall be prouder of being 
 Leah Yates than ever you were of being Leah 
 Barber." 
 
 Leah read this communication over and over 
 again, and dwelt wath a wistful, clinging feeling 
 upon the closing sentences. She discovered 
 now, for the first time, that she had never really 
 believed that Luke would give her up, or even 
 consent to a postponement, and she was alarmed 
 to find also that there was something in her 
 which would have made her feel disappointed 
 if he had consented. 
 
 She felt, also, as if there was a sort of fate — 
 she dared not call it Providence — in the affair, 
 and that she was being swept on with the 
 current of things in spite of herself, and it 
 somehow relieved and comforted her to think 
 so. 
 
 But why did she dwell so lovingly on the 
 latter part of the letter ? Somehow during all 
 her struggles she had felt a strange faith in 
 Luke in spite of all, and those last words of 
 his seemed to promise that he was going to give
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 97 
 
 her a sweet surprise. " God grant it might be 
 so!" 
 
 And then she began to wonder where she 
 was going to hve. Probably not in Beckside, 
 and under all the circumstances she felt it was 
 better so, though it was an additional pang to 
 be separated from her beloved ones. 
 
 This was her last night in the old home, the 
 only home she had ever had, and she began to 
 look round with a strange, softly sorrowful look. 
 She stole into her father's bedroom, and stood 
 long before an old daguerreotype portrait of 
 him hanging over the drawers. Then she stole 
 downstairs, and as the front room was empty, 
 she took refuge in it, whilst her feelings rose 
 and fell with the different articles that she 
 looked so wistfully at. She found an old 
 leather-bound Bible, familiar to her from earliest 
 infancy, and kissed it again and again with 
 choking sobs. Then she fell on her knees on 
 the spot where her father always knelt at family 
 prayer, and laying her cheek on the well-worn 
 cushion of the arm-chair, she began to sob again 
 with a violence that was almost hysterical. How 
 long she knelt there, in the dim candle-light, 
 she never knew, but presently a voice cried in 
 tones of alarm — 
 
 " Leah, what's ta dew ? " 
 
 And the portly form of her mother stood over 
 her in distressful surprise. 
 
 Leah still hugged the cushion for a moment, 
 
 7
 
 98 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 and then, with a last impassioned kiss, she rose 
 
 to her feet and faced her parent. 
 
 " Muther," she said, with grave, sad face, 
 
 "Aw'm goin' t' leeave yo' aw i' th' morning. 
 
 Aw'm goin' ta save Luke, if Aw'm lost mysel' 
 
 fur it. Aw conna help it, muther." 
 
 Mrs. Ben took her daughter quietly in her 
 
 arms and held her there in a long, clinging 
 
 embrace, and at length she murmured — 
 
 " Goa wheer thaa will, wench, an' dew wot thaa 
 
 will, tha'U allis be aar Leah to uz, an' ther'll allis 
 
 be a whoam fur thi here woll [whilst] thi fayther 
 
 an' me lives." 
 
 And then Ben came in and had to be told. 
 
 He dropped into his chair, and then down upon 
 
 his knees, and — But there are some scenes 
 
 even in Beckside history too sacred for strange 
 
 eyes to look upon. 
 
 Next morning, Leah, dressed in her ordinary 
 Sunday clothes, took her seat in the Duxbury 
 coach. By her own choice she went alone, and 
 sat as deep in the coach as she could get, 
 trembling and quietly weeping, though her heart 
 felt cold and hard as stone. 
 
 The train from Duxbury to Whipham was 
 late that day, and it was half-past eleven before 
 it pulled up at the station, Luke was there, 
 dressed with a quiet, good taste, which even 
 Leah, in her agitation, could not help noticing 
 with a momentary pride. Then they hurried 
 into a cab. Luke seemed sadly extravagant,
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 99 
 
 she thought. This was the first cab she had 
 ever ridden in, and as the parish church was 
 close at hand, they could have walked in five 
 minutes easily. 
 
 As she walked up the aisle, Leah thought she 
 caught a glimpse of a bonnet she knew, but she 
 had other things to think of. 
 
 The service was commencing. Dear ! dear ! 
 was this the garrulous, graceless Luke. Even 
 in the cab he had not been able to repress his 
 overflowing fun, but here before this silver- 
 haired old vicar he was sobriety itself. Yes, 
 sober and something more, for if ever a man 
 went with all his heart into the solemn covenant 
 of matrimony that man was Luke Yates. Leah 
 was puzzled, yet deeply gratified. 
 
 And then it was over, and almost before the 
 minister had said " Amen ! " this dreadful Luke 
 threw his arm round her and actually broke out 
 into a great sob ; and whilst the first tears she 
 had ever seen there stood brimming in his eyes, 
 he cried, to the amazement of both Leah and the 
 vicar, and the intense amusement of the old 
 sexton — 
 
 " Aw've getten thi. Aw've getten thi. 
 Thank God ! Aw've getten thi ! " 
 
 Then they adjourned to the vestry, and 
 were preparing to sign the register when the 
 door opened, and the best little bonnet in 
 Beckside, surmounting the merry face of Mrs. 
 Johnty Harrop, appeared in the aperture. The
 
 loo BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 lively little woman seized Leah and kissed her 
 as though she would never cease. Behind Susy- 
 came the " Minder " himself — sheepish and 
 bashful. He was just beginning to wish Leah 
 
 " Many happy re ," when Susy cried, 
 
 " Johnty ! " and the poor Minder broke down 
 and stammered a sort of apology, but was afraid 
 to attempt any further compliment. 
 
 The register got signed, the Minder and his 
 v>'ife witnessing, and then they went out, and 
 that reckless Luke put them into a cab again, 
 Johnty mounting the box-seat, and they were 
 driven off to a quiet hotel, and there, behold ! 
 was a small but frighteningly elegant wedding- 
 breakfast, which Leah felt almost afraid to taste 
 as she thought of its probable cost. 
 
 Breakfast over, Johnty and his wife must go, 
 and, of course, the bridal pair would see them 
 off. Just as the train moved out, Susy leaned 
 out of the window and cried to Leah — 
 
 " Aw winna say ' Gooid-day,' wench, Aw'st 
 happen see thi ageean afoor lung." 
 
 And she looked so very arch and mysterious 
 as she said it, that Leah was compelled to think 
 that it was welcome news, and felt better after 
 it. 
 
 Now all these things had been done so rapidly 
 and in such a whirl of excitement that Leah had 
 caught some of the infection of it, and felt some- 
 how a most unusual elation, so much so, that 
 when she began to rebuke Luke for his ex-
 
 LEAH'S LOVER loi 
 
 travagance in cabs, etc., and that triumphant 
 young man pulled a crooked penny out of his 
 pocket, and wickedly declared that it was all he 
 had in the world, Leah had a sudden rush of 
 pride and trust in her new husband, snatched 
 the penny from his hand, and threw it as far 
 as ever she could over the railings, never even 
 stopping to see it flop into the river. 
 
 Then they walked about the town viewing 
 the places of interest, Leah trying to look as 
 little like a bride as she could, and Luke doing 
 his best to make everybody see that he was a 
 happy bridegroom. 
 
 As the afternoon wore on and the excitement 
 subsided somewhat, Leah's anxiety returned, 
 and all the things that she wanted to know 
 began to clamour in her mind. 
 
 " Luke," she said, stopping suddenly in a 
 quiet walk on the edge of the public park and 
 looking gravely at her husband, " tha's towd 
 me nowt abaat nowt yet. Isn't it toime thaa 
 oppened thi maath ? " 
 
 " Hay ! Aw'll tell thi owt as iver thaa wants 
 ta know. Naa, start off. Wot's th' fust 
 thing ? " 
 
 " Wheer are we going fur t' live ? " 
 
 " Live ? Whey, i' Beckside ; wheer else? " 
 
 Leah was startled a little. In thinking of her 
 future, so far as she had thought at all, she had 
 somehow imagined herself living away from her 
 native village, and thus escaping some of the
 
 I02 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 consequences of her daring act. But to think 
 she was going back to face it all out amongst 
 those who knew her took her breath away, and 
 so she faltered faintly — 
 
 " r Beckside ! Wheerabaats ? " 
 
 " r th' bonniest little haase i' th' Clough." 
 
 Luke spoke these words as though they were 
 a quotation from somebody else, and Leah 
 suddenly remembered that in the only lover's 
 walk she had ever taken with Luke they had 
 passed the cottage of Jimmy Juddy, then just 
 emptied, and which had stood empty ever since, 
 and so she said — 
 
 " No' Jimmy Juddy's owd haase, at th' 
 Beckbottom ? " 
 
 " Yi." 
 
 A rush of sweet feeling came upon Leah. 
 Her face softened ; gratification at discovering 
 that a carelessly dropped word of hers had been 
 treasured up by her lover, and woman's pride in 
 the dear little house and garden, which every- 
 body admired, struggled through the veil of her 
 natural reserve, and the light in her eyes was 
 abundant reward to the keenly observant man 
 by her side. 
 
 By this time the early November day was 
 closing in, and the bridal pair made their way 
 to the station en route for Beckside. As they 
 went along it began to rain and blow, and when 
 they arrived at Duxbury it was as wild and 
 dark a night as Leah had ever been out in.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 103 
 
 However were they going to get home ? The 
 walk at any time would have been quite as 
 much as she could manage, but after such a 
 day, and in such a drenching rain, it seemed 
 madness to attempt it. 
 
 Luke, however, seemed very cheerful about 
 the matter, and laughed at her fears, and when 
 the train stopped, he led the way to a side 
 gate of the station, and before she had time 
 to think, she was safe inside a covered convey- 
 ance, and bowling away through wind and rain 
 towards Beckside. 
 
 How reckless Luke was with his money ! 
 He might have come into a fortune by the 
 way he threw it about. This would be an 
 additional task to the heavy one she had 
 already undertaken, for unless she economised 
 she could see they would soon be ruined. The 
 wind still swirled and whistled about the coach, 
 and the rain beat against the little window, 
 but Luke and Leah sat in darkness and silence 
 except for occasional laconic remarks about 
 the storm. 
 
 They seemed to be going very slowly, and 
 though they must be getting near their 
 journey's end, and had already passed one or 
 two lighted houses, even the reckless Luke 
 dared not venture to look out. 
 
 A sudden drop made Leah aware that she 
 was going down into Beckside and getting near 
 her new home.
 
 I04 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 What sort of place would it be ? She nearly 
 smiled as she imagined her lively husband 
 selecting and arranging furniture, and prepared 
 herself for almost anything that might present 
 itself in the way of ridiculous and even out- 
 rageous contrivances. But she would bear it 
 all. Luke should see what religion could do 
 for those who had it, and with a temperament 
 such as his she was sure that submissive 
 gentleness would be best. She was resolved 
 that she would make the very best of what he 
 had provided, and try to use this as one of the 
 means of bringing him to God. 
 
 Just then the coach stopped, and in a 
 moment the door was opened, and she was 
 nearly lifted out by her excited and eager 
 husband. The rain was still pouring down, 
 and the cottage door, standing open a few 
 yards down the garden, sent forth a most 
 welcome and alluring light. 
 
 " Run, wench, run ! " cried Luke ; and Leah, 
 in dread of the rain, made all the haste she 
 could. As she stepped into the doorway, who 
 should rush forward to meet her but Mrs. 
 Johnty Harrop. 
 
 " Here thaa art, wench, at last ! Come in 
 wi' thi," she cried, with face abeam with glad- 
 ness. 
 
 Leah stepped across the threshold, took a 
 hasty glance round, and then stood stock-still 
 in amazement and alarm.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 105 
 
 Coming in thus from the rain and the inky 
 darkness, with a mind prepared for almost 
 anything except finery, the sight that met 
 Leah's eyes quite overpowered her. 
 
 She took in the situation in a moment. 
 Luke had evidently got acquainted somehow 
 with the Harrops, and had taken Mrs. Johnty 
 into his confidence, and the result was one of 
 the bonniest and most cosy - looking little 
 houses that Leah had ever seen. 
 
 Such a fire this wild night, and such re- 
 splendent fire-irons ! And what arm - chairs 
 and rockers and fancy cushions ! And, oh, 
 what drawers ! And what a hearthrug ! And 
 of all the fancy clocks — But poor Leah 
 could only stand and look round dumbfounded. 
 
 But at that moment Luke came in behind 
 her, and drawing her forward and down into 
 the rocking-chair, he cried, " Theer ! " and stood 
 back to watch her. 
 
 Leah glanced wonderingly round again, and 
 was just about to speak, when she caught sight 
 of a picture hanging over the mantelpiece. 
 Something familiar about it arrested her eyes, 
 and she rose out of her seat to examine it. 
 What was it but a picture of the old Beckside 
 Chapel before the alterations ! It was framed 
 in rosewood, and looked as if it had been 
 drawn and coloured by someone whose heart 
 was in his work. An artist would have seen 
 many faults, doubtless, but to Leah it was just
 
 io6 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 perfect, and great tears welled up into her 
 eyes as she gazed at it. 
 
 Suddenly she wheeled round to speak to Luke, 
 who was deep in whispered converse with Mrs. 
 Johnty at the door going into the back kitchen, 
 but as she did so, her eyes caught another 
 picture on the wall opposite, and, stepping 
 across to it, she discovered a representation in 
 oil of her father's house and premises. It was 
 a rude attempt, shockingly out of perspective, 
 — the brickwork was very red, and the mortar 
 lines were very white, whilst the garden was 
 a most startling green, — but Leah saw no fault 
 in it at all ; and after gazing fondly up at it 
 for a time, she sat quietly down again with a 
 melting heart and pale but smiling lips. 
 
 Then Mrs. Johnty invited Leah upstairs, to 
 take her things off, she said, but really that 
 she might exhibit to her all the grandeur of 
 her little home. Leah was quietly delighted, 
 and grew softer and tenderer as she looked 
 about. She had never seen anything like it ; 
 and when she had finished her tour of in- 
 spection, concluding with another loving look 
 at the pictures, she turned to Luke, who had 
 just come in from the back kitchen, and said, 
 in her grave way — 
 
 " Luke, tha's capped me mony a toime, bud 
 this beeats aw. Hast paid fur it?" 
 
 Luke's face lighted up with that roguish look, 
 so frightening and still so fascinating to Leah,
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 107 
 
 and he answered, reaching out his arm to snatch 
 hold of her as he did so — 
 
 " Paid for it ? Neaw. Aw've getten it aw on 
 th' strap." 
 
 In another moment he would have had her in 
 his arms, but she glided away, and Mrs. Johnty 
 coming in, cried— 
 
 " Naa then ! Noa clippin' afoor foak. Aw'm 
 'shawmed fur tJiee, Leah." 
 
 " It wurna me," cried Leah, and the rest 
 laughed derisively ; and then Johnty came in 
 from the back kitchen hot and red with making 
 toast, and they sat down to tea. 
 
 During the meal Mrs. Johnty gave Leah a 
 full and particular account of the whole scheme 
 of house furnishing, and wickedly pretended to 
 be afraid to tell what it had cost. And when 
 Leah in growing alarm pressed her, she pre- 
 sented the bills all duly and regularly receipted. 
 
 They sat for some time after that, until 
 Johnty became quite sentimental, and told 
 about his own wedding - day, and would have 
 enlarged still more upon his domestic ex- 
 periences, but that Susy, with the air of a 
 woman of sixty, told her husband, " We'd 
 better be piking off whoam ; young foak are 
 best by thersel's." 
 
 When the Harrops had gone, Luke and 
 Leah went all over the house again, and Luke 
 explained everything, and exhibited his various 
 purchases, with all their marvels of contrivance
 
 io8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 and convenience, until Leah was quite over- 
 powered, and her heart was full of the sweet 
 music of the thought that this was Luke's mode 
 of telling her how he loved her. 
 
 When they had gone through everything 
 again, and were just about to sit down, she 
 turned to Luke with a sweetly sad and yet 
 earnest smile, and, touching him on his arm, 
 — the first sign of a caress she had ever given 
 him, — said, as she did so — 
 
 " Hay, lad ! Aw should be th' praadest 
 wench i' Lancashire ta - neet if on'y tha wur 
 convarted." 
 
 Luke laughed an odd catchy sort of a laugh, 
 and if Leah had been a little more observant 
 she might have noticed a strange light in his 
 brown eyes, but she did not, for the answer he 
 made gave her room she thought for far more 
 serious reflection. 
 
 " Convarted ! " he cried. " Hay ! Aw'st 
 happen convart thee afoor Aw've done," 
 
 And Leah sent up a little prayer that she 
 might be strengthened and saved from so great 
 a fall. 
 
 Presently they began preparing for retiring, 
 and Leah, after another proud yet somewhat 
 pensive look round her little domestic palace, 
 was making for the staircase, when Luke, who 
 was looking very much at home in the easy- 
 chair, called out — 
 
 " Leah ! "
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 109 
 
 " Wot ? " 
 
 " Aw thowt tha caw'd thisel' religious." 
 
 " Weel, Aw am, Aw whop " (hope), and she 
 turned to look at him with a glance of 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Religious foak han family prayers, hanna 
 they ? " 
 
 " A-y," said Leah faintly and with sudden 
 loss of breath, and as she sank down on a chair 
 wondering what was coming next, Luke got 
 up and opened a drawer, brought out a new 
 Family Bible, and handing it to her, said — 
 
 " Here ! Tha'd ha' made a rare parson if 
 tha'd bin a mon." 
 
 Leah took the book in a dazed sort of 
 manner, and sat still with it on her lap with 
 feelings too deep for utterance. 
 
 After a few moments' silence, however, she 
 opened the book and began to read a psalm. 
 Then she slid to her knees. Luke followed, 
 and she began to pray. 
 
 Hesitantly, blunderingly, at first she spoke, 
 but soon, as the thought of her husband's 
 condition, and the responsibilities she had 
 undertaken, filled her mind, she expressed her 
 desires more freely ; and if she had not been so 
 fully occupied she might have observed that 
 her young husband breathed out more than 
 once sounds that were strangely like " Amens ! " 
 
 Next morning, as she went about her new 
 domestic duties, constantly discovering fresh
 
 no BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 evidences of the lavish manner in which Luke 
 had provided for her, her mind was distracted 
 by wondering how they would spend Sunday. 
 She ought to go to chapel, but she dared not 
 face it. She could go with Luke, but she 
 had no hope that he would care to meet the 
 people. 
 
 What was her duty ? Ought she to take up 
 her cross and go alone, whatever the con- 
 sequences, and thus give her husband to see 
 that she was beginning as she intended to go 
 on ; or ought she to stay at home with him, and 
 try to restrain him from going off into bad 
 company, as she felt sure she could do if she 
 chose? Then she might gradually wean him 
 from his dangerous associations, and some day, 
 perhaps, she might coax him back to chapel. 
 
 A Httle before chapel time Luke came down- 
 stairs dressed in his Sunday best. 
 
 " Come, wench, artna gettin' ready ? " he 
 cried in mild surprise. 
 
 " Ready ? Wot fur ? Wheer are we goin' ? " 
 
 " Goin' ? Whey to th' chapil, arna we ? " 
 
 And Leah sat down and cried, a soft sweet 
 little cry it was in which her heart overflowed 
 in thankful surprise and relief. She could face 
 the chapel folk easily now ; and in a few 
 minutes they were crossing the fields in the shy 
 November sunlight, Leah feeling as proud of 
 her husband as he evidently was of her. 
 
 There was a buzz of sensation as they
 
 LEAH'S LOVER iii 
 
 entered the little sanctuary, followed by much 
 whispering, and when Long Ben, looking de- 
 pressed and nervous, opened the vestry door 
 for the preacher to pass into the pulpit, and 
 caught sight of them, he stood for a moment 
 transfixed, and then hastily closed the door, 
 and it was far on in the service before he mus- 
 tered courage to come into his own pew. 
 
 When the service was over, Ben came down 
 the chapel and mutely shook hands with them ; 
 the juvenile Barbers somewhat shyly followed 
 him, and gathering round Leah, asked all sorts 
 of embarrassing questions, while Luke stood by 
 with growing delight as he listened to his young 
 wife's brave answers. 
 
 At the evening service Luke and Leah 
 turned up again, and to everybody's astonish- 
 ment, and most of all to Leah's, Luke insisted 
 on staying to the prayer-meeting. 
 
 As the meeting proceeded there was a myster- 
 ious pantomimic display going on over the heads 
 of the kneeling worshippers. Jonas Tatlock 
 and Sam Speck were standing up and nodding 
 their heads to Lige the road-mender, who sat 
 near the young couple, pointing significantly at 
 them as they did so. But Lige shook his head 
 and jerked his thumb behind him towards Jabe 
 in the back pew. Presently Sam left his seat, 
 and going on tiptoe to the dogger's pew, he 
 leaned over and whispered — 
 
 " Artna goin' ta speik ta yond' lad ? "
 
 112 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Goa thisel'," was the somewhat sulky re- 
 joinder, for Jabe was suffering inward torment. 
 
 " It 'ud leuk better if thaa went ; thaa turnt 
 him aat, thaa knows." 
 
 " Weel, Aw shanna ; " and considering that 
 they were in a prayer-meeting, the Clogger's 
 tone was simply shocking. 
 
 After another unsuccessful attempt, Sam went 
 back to his seat, and the meeting closed some- 
 what prematurely. 
 
 Meanwhile Long Ben, sitting in his pew, had 
 made up his mind to a great deed. As soon as 
 Leah had gone on Saturday morning, he went 
 up to the Clog Shop and told his old friend 
 what was taking place that day, and it was 
 some time before he could make Jabe believe 
 what he said. When he did realise it, however, 
 all the stiffness which had come between them 
 of late melted away in an instant, and though 
 the fact was shown by neither word nor act, 
 Ben knew that he had, if possible, a deeper 
 place than ever in his old friend's love and care. 
 
 Ben, therefore, secure in the support of Jabe, 
 hastened out of the chapel the back way as the 
 meeting was dispersing, and stopping the young 
 couple as they came out, he said — 
 
 " Yo' tew mun come daan ta aar haase." 
 
 To Leah's surprise, Luke seemed glad of the 
 invitation, and his face did not change in its 
 happy look even when Jabe and Sam Speck 
 were invited.
 
 LEAH'S LOVER 113 
 
 Beyond a long careful look at her daughter 
 as she shyly entered, Mrs. Ben gave no signs of 
 any unusual feeling, and in a few minutes they 
 were all seated comfortably round the supper- 
 table. Comfortably, that is, as far as mere 
 accommodation was concerned, for in every 
 other respect the gathering was a failure, and 
 everybody seemed awkward and taciturn. 
 
 The food was eaten almost in silence. A few 
 words were said about the sermon and the 
 weather, but nobody made even the faintest 
 allusion to the great event that was uppermost 
 in everybody's thoughts. 
 
 Luke, however, seemed to be eating rapidly, 
 but it was more as a stimulating accompaniment 
 to his own very active thoughts than because of 
 any particular relish for the food. 
 
 Just as they were about to return thanks, 
 Luke lifted his head, and looking towards the 
 Clogger, said — 
 
 "Jabe, Awwant ta thank thi fur turnin' me 
 aat o' th' schoo'." 
 
 Everybody looked up in astonishment, but as 
 nobody spoke, Luke went on — 
 
 " Aw ne'er know'd haa mitch Aw loiked it 
 till then, bud that made me think, Aw con tell 
 yo' ! Ay, an' feel tew ! That schoo' and this 
 wench" — laying his hand gently on Leah's 
 shoulder — " has saved my soul." 
 
 Leah started up, with a glad, eager cry. 
 
 " Ay, wench ! " Luke went on, looking down
 
 114 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 upon her with a burning glance, " tha's saved 
 mi soul. Aw allis loiked thi, and the moor 
 religious thaa wur, the moor Aw loiked thi. Aw 
 dunno say as thaa did reet i' th' sight o' God wi' 
 takkin' me, bud thaa did it. An' when Aw seed 
 thi riskin' thi soul ta save me, it fairly knocked 
 me o'er. Bud, wench, Aw'm convarted. Aw've 
 bin convarted welly a fortnit, an' if God helps 
 me, tha'st ha' the best husband i' Beckside. 
 Bless thi ! Bless thi ! " 
 
 The scene that followed baffles description. 
 Whether poor Ben, or his wife, or the still Leah, 
 or Luke himself, was most excited, it would 
 be difficult to say, but for the next two hours 
 tongues were going and joys were being recipro- 
 cated until everybody felt young and bright 
 again. 
 
 When at last the company began to break up, 
 Jabe, who had been strangely silent all evening, 
 drew Luke aside into a corner, and said in a 
 subdued voice — 
 
 " Dost smook, lad ? " 
 
 " Ay ! A bit." 
 
 " Ther's a seeat fur thi at th' Clog Shop feire 
 ony toime tha's a moind ta come." 
 
 And that being as near to an acknowledgment 
 of mistake as Jabe could ever be expected to 
 come, no more was ever said between them 
 about Luke's expulsion.
 
 Sally's Redemption 
 I 
 
 Unreciprocated Advances 
 
 116
 
 Sally's Redemption 
 I 
 
 Unreciprocated Advances 
 
 " Sam." 
 
 " Wot." 
 
 " Yo' men's noa feelin's." 
 
 The speaker was Lottie Speck, Sam's long, 
 angular, yellow-haired sister. She stood between 
 the cupboard door and the edge of the table, 
 and had been for some moments looking 
 abstractedly through the front window. 
 
 " Wot's up wi' thi naa ? " demanded Sam, who 
 was busy mending a fiddle. 
 
 " Ther's poor Sniggy yond', goin' abaat loike 
 sumbry dateliss sin' his muther deed, an' tha's 
 niver bin th' mon az hes axed him ta hev' a 
 sooap o' tay wi' thi'. Neaw, nor even of a Sunday. 
 It wodna cap me if his trubbel druv him ta th' 
 drink ageean ; an' if it dooas, he'll be wur nor iver." 
 
 Sam lifted his head from his fiddle with a 
 look of dull astonishment. This was never 
 
 117
 
 ii8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 his hard, unsympathetic shrew of a sister ! 
 Ask anybody to tea ! Why he hadn't dared to 
 do such a thing for he couldn't tell how long. 
 And the memory of the last occasion on which 
 he did so was even yet a vision of terror to him. 
 Whatever was coming over Lottie ? 
 
 " Aw'll ax him ta-morn if thaa wants him," he 
 said at length, gazing at his sister in puzzled 
 surprise. 
 
 "Me? Aw dunna want him!" and Lottie 
 tossed her head in lofty disdain. " Aw wantnoa 
 felleys slotching abaat me, Aw con tell thi." 
 And Lottie began to examine herself critically 
 in the little looking-glass on the wall. 
 
 Sam said no more, but he resolved that if he 
 had really caught his sister in an unusually 
 amiable mood he would malce the most of it 
 whilst it lasted, and Sniggy should be invited 
 on the very next day. 
 
 But whatever could it mean ? Was this nipping, 
 harsh sister of his, who ruled him with a rod of 
 iron, and ordered him about as if he had been a 
 slave, relenting ? Had he been mistaken ? Was 
 there a soft place in that thin, bony body after 
 all? Well, he would hope so; and in better 
 spirits than he had felt for many a day, Sam 
 hung his fiddle up and sauntered off to the Clog 
 Shop. 
 
 But even in the short distance between that 
 great establishment and his own cottage, Sam's 
 surprise overcame him again, and he whistled a
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 119 
 
 long, low whistle of wonderment, and stopped in 
 the middle of the road to marvel. 
 
 Well, wonders never cease certainly, but 
 this was the greatest surprise of all, and Sam 
 jerked his head in amazement and resumed his 
 journey. 
 
 But, somehow, he couldn't help having mis- 
 givings. He was anxious enough to believe 
 that this was the sign of a change in Lottie, but 
 it was really so entirely contradictory to her 
 ordinary manner and spirit that he couldn't 
 believe in it, do what he would. And as for 
 lasting ! Well, if Lottie held out for a week in 
 her present state of mind he would give women 
 up as insoluble riddles, as his great mentor 
 declared they v/ere. 
 
 Sam soon made it right with Sniggy. That 
 worthy having lost Old Molly, his mother, a 
 few weeks before, felt very " looansome " in his 
 little cottage in the Brickcroft, and gratefully 
 accepted any offers of hospitality that were 
 made to him. 
 
 Sniggy regarded the Specks as somewhat 
 above him in the social scale, and felt flattered 
 by the invitation, but at the same time he knew 
 enough of Lottie to be greatly surprised at 
 it, and strolled down from the school on 
 Sunday afternoon by Sam's side with some- 
 what apprehensive feelings lest he should find 
 she was not of the same mind as her brother. 
 
 But Sam's sister received them with a manner
 
 120 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 as near to graciousness as Sniggy had ever 
 known her to show, and set before them a tea 
 which was in itself an additional welcome. 
 
 There was buttered toast and "pikelets," 
 " pig-seause " (brawn), pickled onions, and a 
 currant fatcake, to say nothing of such ordinary 
 provisions as oatcake, white bread and butter, 
 and tea-cakes, and Sam, as he glanced at the 
 overcrowded little table, made up his mind that 
 if Sniggy didn't come to tea pretty often in the 
 future it shouldn't be his fault. 
 
 And Lottie was so amiable with it all, A 
 thrill of horror went through Sam as Sniggy 
 in his nervousness poured the tea over the 
 saucer edge and stained their best tablecloth, 
 but to his amazement Lottie treated it as of 
 no moment whatever, and even pretended to 
 blame the shape of the old-fashioned cups for 
 the disaster. 
 
 Sniggy had a good healthy appetite, and 
 Sam feared he might get into trouble about 
 that, but his sister urged and better urged their 
 guest to eat, declaring, with much apparent 
 concern, that he must be badly, " peckin' at his 
 meit loike a brid." 
 
 Sam was simply bewildered. What could it 
 all mean ? But just at this moment, as he was 
 hastily and somewhat fearfully cramming the 
 half of a pikelet into his mouth, his amazement 
 was intensified by his sister saying — 
 
 " Thaa mun cum ageean, Sniggy lad. If xA.w'd
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 121 
 
 a brother as wur woth owt, he'd a axed thi afoor 
 naa, lung sin'." 
 
 Sniggy thanked her blunderingly, and seemed 
 to think that a feast like this was not a thing he 
 could expect every day. At last the tea was 
 over, and they drew near to the fire. 
 
 Sniggy pulled out a short wood pipe and a 
 steel tobacco-box, and was proceeding to charge. 
 
 " Sam, wot arta dooin' ? Tha'rt no' lettin' 
 Sniggy use his oan 'bacca, arta ? " cried Lottie, 
 as if that was a practice that might obtain with 
 common people, but was not to be thought of 
 at all in their house. 
 
 And Sam, wondering whether he were not 
 dreaming, rose to get his tobacco - box, only 
 to discover that someone had already filled it 
 with a popular mixture just then coming into 
 fashion. 
 
 But this was too much ! Sam gave it up 
 now, and simply sat and smoked, trying to 
 resolve that after this nothing in the world 
 should surprise him. 
 
 Presently he began to realise that he had 
 never really heard Sniggy talk before. Under 
 Lottie's dexterous manipulation the ex- 
 pigeon-flyer was becoming quite a brilliant 
 conversationalist, and supplied his lady listener 
 with more details of his mother's last illness 
 than had ever been given to the world before ; 
 and by the time they had to go to chapel, 
 Lottie and Sniggy were quite " thick."
 
 122 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 As for Sniggy himself, he was quite upHfted, 
 and went to the chapel marvelling at the 
 number of undiscovered saints there were in 
 the world, and the blindness and prejudice of 
 those who had so long and so persistently 
 maligned Sam's sister. 
 
 And next Sunday the whole thing was re- 
 peated, only on an, if possible, ampler scale. 
 And even in the week between, Lottie had 
 been so unusually considerate, and spoken so 
 often and so kindly of Sniggy, that Sam was 
 simply dazed as he thought of it. 
 
 But on that second Sunday night, as Sam lay 
 pondering these things in bed, a horrible idea all 
 at once took possession of him. That was it ! 
 He saw it all at once now. Why had he been so 
 " numb " ? His sister was setting Jier cap at 
 poor Sniggy ! Of course she was ! What a 
 " cawf-yed " he'd been not to see that before. 
 And as Sam tossed about in bed, and looked 
 at this great matter, his astonishment gave 
 w^ay to shame and anxiety. What a terrible 
 position it was for him ! 
 
 No man who knew anything of Lottie would 
 ever marry her. And though she was his sister, 
 he could not allow his friend Sniggy to run his 
 head into a noose without knowing what he was 
 doing. If Lottie married him she would, by her 
 naggling ways, drive the poor fellow to drink in 
 no time, and in that case Jie would be, in at 
 least some measure, responsible.
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 123 
 
 On the other hand, had he not for years been 
 hoping against hope that his sister would marry, 
 and thus set him free to do the same ? He had 
 not dared to think of it seriously whilst he had 
 her to deal with, except on the solitary occasion 
 when he had desperately risked everything and 
 proposed to " Nancy o' th' Fowt," only to be 
 rejected ; and even though his former experience 
 of married life had not been exactly encourag- 
 ing, yet he would have experimented again long 
 ago but for his sister, and indeed, in some sense, 
 because of his sister, and in order to be rid of 
 her. 
 
 It was a matter about which he could not very 
 well consult his friends, and yet if he did not, 
 and Lottie actually accomplished her purpose, 
 they would never forgive him, especially if they 
 discovered that he had known it, and, in a sense, 
 aided and abetted it. 
 
 All night long poor Sam tossed about, wrestling 
 with his great problem. Morning came, but no 
 relief. For two or three days Sam dogged 
 Sniggy's footsteps, and hovered about him in a 
 most peculiar way, but could never make up his 
 mind to speak. 
 
 On Friday night, however, as he returned from 
 a little journey, and called at home for his fiddle 
 on his way to the Clog Shop practice, he 
 was surprised as he opened the door to find 
 Sniggy and Lottie sitting on the long settle very 
 close together, and evidently engaged in a very
 
 124 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 interesting confab. Sam uttered a sudden and 
 astonished " Hello ! " 
 
 Lottie hastily left the long settle, and began 
 to lecture Sam in the old style about "comin' 
 tumblin' inta th' haase loike a mad bull," and 
 Sniggy, looking somewhat relieved, rose to his 
 feet and announced that he must be going. 
 
 Sam was glad to go along with his friend, and 
 when they were approaching the Clog Shop door, 
 he took a sudden and daring resolution. Step- 
 ping into the Cloggery, and hastily putting his 
 fiddle down upon the counter, he hurriedly re- 
 joined his companion in the road, and took him 
 into the fields, ostensibly for a walk, but really 
 to unburden his mind to him. 
 
 " It's varry gooid on thi, Sam lad ! " said 
 Sniggy, when the great secret had been revealed, 
 " bud tha's bin meytherin' thisel' fur nowt." 
 
 "Haa's that?" 
 
 " Ther's noa weddin' fur me, lad ; " and Sniggy 
 slowly and sorro\vfully shook his head. 
 
 " Noa weddin' ? Nowt o' t' sooart, mon. Thaa 
 gets good wages, an' tha's a haase aw ready. 
 Aw'd be wed in a jiffy if Aw wur i' thy place." 
 
 " Nay, thaa wodna." 
 
 " Haa's that ? " 
 
 " Sam, afoor Aw was convarted Aw did 
 wrung." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Aw uset marlock wi' Sally Shaw thaa knows." 
 
 " Well ? "
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 125 
 
 " Aw'm feart Aw helped ta mak' her wot 
 hoo is," 
 
 " Wot bi that ? " 
 
 " Aw loike her yet, Sam," and Sniggy nearly 
 broke down. 
 
 " Bud thaa conna merry her, hoo's a — a — a 
 bad un ! " 
 
 " Sam," and poor Sniggy set his teeth, and 
 choked back a sob, " if iver Aw wed Aw'st wed 
 Sally. Aw'd nowt ta dew wi' th' lumber hoo geet 
 inta, bud it wur me as coaxed her away fro' 
 th' schoo', an' it aw started theer. An' if hoo 
 comes back Aw'st merry her, an' if hoo ne'er 
 comes back Aw'st stop as Aw am." 
 
 Sam went away from that interview with a 
 deeper and tenderer attachment to the reclaimed 
 pigeon-flyer than he had ever had before, and it 
 was as well he did, for the reception he met with 
 at home tried his loyalty to his friend to its 
 utmost ; and when on the following Sunday he 
 absolutely refused to bring Sniggy to tea any 
 more, and then, in his fear and flurry, blurted 
 out that Sniggy wouldn't come if he were asked, 
 he was glad to get out of the house, and at 
 any rate postpone the consequences of this un- 
 expected rebellion. 
 
 Not to be baulked, however, of her purpose, 
 on the following morning Lottie made one 
 of her infrequent attendances ? at morning 
 service, and managed to get hold of Sniggy 
 as they were coming out of chapel.
 
 126 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 But Sniggy almost curtly declined her very 
 warm invitation to tea, and when Lottie, affect- 
 ing great surprise, demanded to know the 
 reason, he became even more taciturn. 
 
 " Ay ! tha's getten bet-ter feesh ta fry. Aw 
 reacon. Soa thaa con dew baat uz," she said 
 with some asperity, as she stopped opposite her 
 own door. 
 
 Sniggy shyly hung his head in shame, but 
 more for her than for himself So she mis- 
 understood the action, and went on — 
 
 " Tha's na need ta leuk loike that ; Aw know 
 wot's i' th' rooad. Tha's gettin' thick wi' them 
 Horrocks wenches, Awve yerd abaat it." 
 
 Sniggy stood with his face looking back 
 towards the chapel. At last he turned, and 
 looking steadily at Lottie, said, with a signi- 
 ficance that even a much duller person than 
 Sam's sister could not have misunderstood — 
 
 " Lottie, Aw'm no' meytherin' efther ony 
 women, noather Horrockses nor awmbry else. 
 Aw'U ler them alooan if they'll ler me alooan." 
 
 And without waiting for a reply he moved off 
 quickly towards home. 
 
 The sufferings of poor Sam for the next few 
 days are better imagined than described.
 
 Sally's Redemption 
 
 II 
 
 The Old Love 
 
 127
 
 Sally's Redemption 
 II 
 
 The Old Love 
 
 It was Diixbur}' Wakes week, and of Lite 
 years this great festival had come to be re- 
 garded as, more or less, a hoh'dav for the 
 whole surrounding district ; and in spite of 
 many and portentous harangues from the 
 Sunday-school desk against it, every year found 
 an increasing number of Becksiders making it 
 an excuse for recreation and jaunting. 
 
 The old 'bus ran from Beckside twice every 
 day during that week, to say nothing of the 
 ("lough End waggonette, which came through 
 the village and picked up passengers. 
 
 Of course the magnates of the Clog Shop 
 couldn't have been induced to go to Duxbury 
 that week on any account whatever. Not for 
 worlds would they expose themselves to the 
 suspicion of hankering after the flesh-pots of 
 Kgypt. 
 
 9
 
 I30 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 About the middle of the particular Wakes 
 week we are speaking of, Sam Speck suddenly 
 missed his now almost inseparable friend 
 Sniggy, and grew, in consequence, somewhat 
 uneasy. 
 
 He knew the kind of time Sniggy used to 
 have in former days at these wicked Wakes. 
 And he had heard him say that, since his 
 conversion, he was always glad when the fair 
 was over. But this year Sniggy had lost his 
 mother, and was " daan i' th' maath " in con- 
 sequence. People in his condition often took 
 to drink for the sake of relief and company, 
 and Sam was afraid lest, in his sorrow and 
 loneliness, Sniggy had yielded to temptation. 
 
 He determined, therefore, to look him up. 
 He called at Sniggy's house, and tried the door. 
 It was fast, and Sam's heart sank a little. 
 
 '• Hast seen owt o' Sniggy lattly?" he asked 
 one of his friend's former companions, who 
 stood in a dirty-looking doorway watching him. 
 
 *' Ay ! Aw^ seed him on th' Wakes graand at 
 Duxb'ry yesterd'y, bud Aw fancy he didna coom 
 back last neet ; " and there was a gleam of 
 unholy satisfaction in the man's bleary eye. 
 
 Sam walked back into the road, and up the 
 " broo " to the Clog Shop, in a very miserable 
 state of mind ; and Jabe, when he heard the 
 tidings, was scarcely less affected. 
 
 After a lengthy conversation, Sam offered to 
 go to Duxbury in search of Sniggy, but Jabc
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTJON 131 
 
 was by no means sure that this might not 
 be a sly dodge on Sam's part to get an excuse 
 for a peep at Vanity Fair, and so peremptorily 
 dismissed the idea. 
 
 Just then Sam caught sight of Long Ben 
 going past, and hurrying to the door, he called 
 him in. 
 
 Ben proved " awkert." He had more faith in 
 Sniggy than that, and didn't think it necessary 
 to " meyther." That was always the way with 
 Ben — he always went " collywest " to everybody 
 else, and would " sit an' grin woll his haase wur 
 brunnin'." 
 
 Next morning Sam arrived at the Clog Shop 
 with the tidings that Sniggy had been home, 
 but had gone off again, presumably to Duxbury, 
 before daylight. 
 
 Jabe felt very ill at ease, and the holi- 
 day feeling which seemed to be in the air 
 affected him with a strange restlessness. So, 
 later in the day, he was standing at his shop 
 door when the 'bus from Duxbury pulled up in 
 the triangle. He watched the passengers alight, 
 in the hope that Sniggy would be amongst 
 them. 
 
 But only three persons got out, and they were 
 all women ; and Jabe had turned his eyes in 
 another direction, and was watching a slater at 
 work on the Fold Farm roof, when a voice he 
 knew said, close at his side — 
 
 " Jabe, Aw want ta speik ta thi."
 
 132 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 It was Lottie Speck, one of the passengers 
 who had just alighted. Jabe eyed her over 
 slowly and sourly, but did not offer to move 
 or speak. 
 
 "Jabe, Aw've summat ta say ta thi," 
 
 " \Vell, wot is it ? " 
 
 " Aw conna talk ta thi here ; goa i' th' shop 
 an' Aw'll tell thi." 
 
 SIowl}', and with evident reluctance, Jabe led 
 the way to the inglenook, but neither sat down 
 himself nor invited his visitor to do so. 
 
 Lottie Speck never brought good tidings, and 
 he had enough to think about that was trouble- 
 some without anything more. 
 
 " Jabe, Aw've bin ta Duxb'ry." 
 
 " Ay ! Owder an' madder." 
 
 Lottie closed her eyes in expression of her 
 willingness to endure even worse abuse than 
 this if the Clogger was cruel enough to inflict 
 it upon her. After a pause, she went on — 
 
 " Aw seed summat as thaa owt ta )-er 
 abaat at wunce." 
 
 Jabe looked impatiently out of the window, 
 as if he neither wanted Lottie nor her 
 communication. 
 
 " It made me fair whacker when Aw seed it." 
 
 Still the Clogger would not speak. 
 
 "Hay, dear! this is a wicked wold," and 
 Lottie heaved a pious sigh. 
 
 " Well, wot is it, woman ? Aat wi' it," snapped 
 the Clogger petulantly.
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 133 
 
 " Jabe, Aw seed Sniggy Parkin talkin' tew a 
 bad woman." 
 
 Jabe's heart sank within him, and he felt Hke 
 crying, but he would not show it to this creature, 
 and so, glancing at her with annihilating fierce- 
 ness, he demanded — 
 
 "Well, wot's that ta dew wi' thi." 
 
 Lottie was staggered. 
 
 " Me ? Nowt. Bud he's a member, isn't 
 he ? " she cried, at a loss for the moment what 
 to say. 
 
 Jabe's anger was fast getting the better of 
 him. If Lottie did not go, he would be saying 
 something he should be sorry for. 
 
 " Lottie," he cried, " if tha'll give o'er melling 
 [meddling] wi' other foak, an' leuk a bit bet-ter 
 efther thisel', it 'ull leuk a foine seet bet-ter on 
 thi." And after another pause he turned his 
 back on his visitor, and, stepping over towards 
 the other side of the shop, added gruffly — 
 
 " Tha'd bet-ter be piking." 
 
 Lottie, staggered and nonplussed by the 
 Clogger's unusually surly manner, and yet 
 resolved to brave it out, drew herself up to her 
 full height, and began — 
 
 " P^oaks as winks at other foaks' nowtiness " — 
 But she got no further, for Jabe made a rush at 
 her, and what he really intended to have done 
 it would be impossible to say, for Lottie nimbly 
 slipped to the door, and, giving it a spiteful 
 bang after her, disappeared, and the Clogger
 
 134 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 stood breathless and angry in the middle of his 
 shop floor. 
 
 Later on, in the same day, Jabe and Sam had 
 another consultation. Lottie, defeated in her 
 purpose with Jabe, had had her revenge on her 
 hapless brother, and Sam, though in no way 
 abating his concern about Sniggy, had a 
 chastened and pensive look. 
 
 Eventually it was decided that Sam should 
 go in the evening to Lige the road-mender's, 
 who lived on the edgQ of the Brickcroft, and from 
 this vantage point watch for the fallen Sniggy 's 
 return. 
 
 About ten o'clock he came hurrying into the 
 Clog Shop with a pale and woebegone look. He 
 was evidently full of some sorrowful tidings, but 
 seeing that one or two of the cronies were still 
 there, he suddenly checked himself, and tried to 
 look easy. 
 
 But the Clogger was not deceived. Neither 
 was he content to wait. The strain he had 
 borne that day made him excessively irritable, 
 and so, recklessly ignoring all considerations of 
 caution, he demanded — 
 
 " Well ! wot is it ? " 
 
 Sam was terrified ; he dodged behind Long 
 Ben and began to motion to Jabe not to speak. 
 But the Clogger was beyond all possibility of 
 care now. 
 
 " Wor art pace-eggin' theer at ? Aat wi' it, 
 if tha's owt ta say."
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 135 
 
 LongBenaiid Jethro, who were the two present, 
 turned round and looked at Sam, and though he 
 did his best to appear unconcerned it was an 
 utter failure, and a minute later they had brought 
 him into the little circle and were demanding to 
 know what was the matter. 
 
 Sam was bursting to tell the news, but he was 
 also very much afraid of complicating matters. 
 However, as everybody seemed to be waiting for 
 him, and Jabe showed ominous signs of im- 
 patience, he blurted out — 
 
 " Snigg}''s cum whoam." 
 
 "Well, wot bi that?" asked Jethro, who, of 
 course, knew nothing of what had previously 
 occurred, but could see that something more 
 than common was involved. 
 
 " An' he's browt a woman wi' him — an' a 
 chilt." 
 
 A sharp cry escaped the Clogger, and even 
 Ben looked startled. 
 
 "Art thaa sewer?" 
 
 "Aw seed em' cum, an' goa i' th' haase ; aw 
 three on 'em." 
 
 The friends gazed at each other with shocked 
 and sorrowful looks, but for a time nobody 
 spoke. 
 
 At last Long Ben rose to his feet, and as it 
 was evident where he was going, Jabe cried — 
 
 " Howd on. Aw'll goa wi' thi." 
 
 Ben hesitated, and evidently thought that he 
 had better go alone, but the Clogger looked so
 
 136 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 very anxious that he hadn't the heart to object, 
 although Jabe himself admitted afterwards that 
 it was an unwise thing to do. 
 
 A few minutes later the two approached 
 Sniggy's cottage. 
 
 They could see the flicker of the firelight on 
 the window-blind, but there was no other sign 
 of illumination. 
 
 Ben knocked, and immediately opened the 
 door. 
 
 As he did so a woman, sitting before the fire, 
 and evidently rocking a little child to sleep, 
 turned her head towards them hastily, and then 
 as hastily turned it away again. 
 
 " Wheer's Sniggy?" asked Ben, holding the 
 door in his hand. 
 
 " He's nor in," replied the woman, still con- 
 cealing her face. 
 
 " Haa lung will he be afoor he's back ? " 
 
 " He's noa comin' back here ta-neet," was the 
 reply. 
 
 The two visitors breathed sighs of relief, and 
 began to feel a little like intruders, and so, with 
 an awkward " Gooid-neet," they retired. 
 
 As they ascended the " broo," Sam Speck met 
 them, all hurried and out of breath. 
 
 " He's yond'," he cried, suddenly discovering 
 them in the darkness. 
 
 "Wheer?" 
 
 " At th' shop." 
 
 The three walked quickly up the little hill,
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 137 
 
 and checking themselves as they ch'cw near 
 the Cloggery, they entered as unconcernedly as 
 was possible under the circumstances. 
 
 " Hello, Snig ! " said Sam, who was first, 
 evidently with a desire to make the ex-pigeon- 
 flyer feel at his ease. 
 
 But Jabe was too anxious for any subterfuge. 
 Walking up to the fire, and fixing Sniggy with 
 his eye, he demanded — 
 
 " Wheer's thaa bin aw wik ? " 
 
 Sniggy looked up quietly, glanced round to 
 see who the others were, and then, pointing with 
 the stem of his pipe to the empty stools, he 
 said — 
 
 "If yo'll sit yo' daan Aw'll tell yo' aw abaat it." 
 
 The three men sank into seats, and after 
 waiting until they were seated and smoking, he 
 commenced — 
 
 " Yo' known, chaps, as Aw uset be thick wi' 
 Sally Shaw ? " 
 
 " Well ? " (from Jabe). 
 
 " Well, when Aw geet convarted Aw wanted 
 her ta jine tew, an' hoo wodna." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, Aw gan o'er gooin' wi' her." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " An' Aw started o' pruyin' fur her — fur, hay, 
 chaps, Aw did loike her." 
 
 " Christians conna merry wi' " — Jabe was 
 commencing, but Ben stopped him, and Sniggy 
 proceeded.
 
 158 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 "Well, mooar Aw pruyed th' wur hoo went, 
 an' at th' lung last hoo geet i' trubbel, an' went 
 away." 
 
 And then Sniggy's voice quavered, and he 
 paused, and shaking his head earnestly, he 
 cried — 
 
 " Hay, bud Aw did loike her." 
 
 " Well, an' wot then ? " 
 
 " Well, Aw wur that ill off abaat her Aw could 
 hardly 'bide. Aw kept on pruyin' yo' known, 
 bud Aw ne'er yerd nowt on her. An' then my 
 owd muther deed, an' Aw felt mooar looansomer 
 nor iver. Well, o' Tuesday, as we wur hevin' aar 
 breakfast i' th' shop, Aw yerd Alice Varley 
 tellin' Peggy Bobby as hoo seed Sally upo' 
 Duxb'ry Wakes graand, an' hoo wur wi' a 
 minadgerie chap, an' leuked badly an' ill off. 
 Hay,chaps ! it went through me loike a shot. Aw 
 couldna rest, Aw couldna sleep when neet coom. 
 An' soa th' fost thing i' th' mornin' Aw went off 
 fur t' seek her. Aw wur seekin' her tew days, 
 an' this efthernoon, just when Aw wur thinkin' 
 o' givin' it up, Aw yerd a woman shaat aat 
 ' Snig ! Snig ! ' an' Aw turnt me raand an' it 
 wur her." 
 
 Then Sniggy paused, and looked round on 
 the company, as if expecting them to look as 
 delighted as he had evidently been himself. 
 
 Nobody spoke, however, and so presently 
 he resumed his story. 
 
 " Hoo coom up lowfing, shy-loike, yo' known,
 
 SALLY'S REDEMPTION 139 
 
 bud when hoo gect cluse tew me, hay, chaps, 
 hoo did leuk miserable ! " 
 
 The listeners looked as if that was about the 
 only becoming thing they had heard of her, and 
 disappointed again in his bid for sympathy, 
 Sniggy proceeded— 
 
 " Hoo axed me if Aw wur na gooin' fur t' pay 
 fur a drink fur her. An' Aw leuks at her, an' 
 Aw says, ' Neaw, wench, neaw ! ' 
 
 "An' then hoo leuked at me, solemn-loike, an' 
 hoo says, ' Arta religious yet, Snig? ' 
 
 "'Ay,' Aw says. An' v/ot dust think hoo 
 did, Sam?" 
 
 " Aw dunno." 
 
 " Hoo tewk howd o' booath my bonds, o' this- 
 unce, an' hoo says, reglar wild-loike, 'Thank 
 God! thank God!'" and Sniggy looked about 
 on his friends with shining, tearful face. 
 
 Presently he resumed — 
 
 " An' then Aw tewk her tew a cook-shop, and 
 as we wur goin' hoo stops an' hoo leuks at me 
 solemn-loike, for a great while, an' then hoo 
 brasts aat o' skriking, an' hoo says, * Snig,' 
 hoo says, ' Aw wuish Aia wur religious ! ' 
 
 " Aw wur i' th' street, mon, bud Aw couldna 
 help it, soa Aw just bells aat, ' Hallelujah ! ' 
 an' th' foak aw turnt raand an' sturred at me 
 as if Aw'd gooan off it." 
 
 Sniggy was so absorbed in recalling to his 
 mind the scene he was describing, that he forgot 
 to proceed, until presently Sam said —
 
 I40 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Well, an' wot then ? " 
 
 " Wot then ? " cried Sniggy, astonished at the 
 question ; and then recollecting himself, he 
 proceeded — 
 
 "Whey, Aw browt her whoam wi' me, an' 
 hoo's i' th' haasc naa. An' Aw'm goin' t' lodge 
 wi' Bob Turner till we gettcn marrit." 
 
 There was no more to be said. Jabe and 
 his friends were more proud of their recruit 
 than they had ever been, and were profoundly 
 touched by his simple story. 
 
 " Bud, dust think hoo's gradely repented, lad ? " 
 said the Clogger with gentle dubiousness. 
 
 "Repented? Ay, wot else? Isn't that wot 
 Aw pruyed fur?" 
 
 " An' thaa thinks as hoo's come back i' answer 
 ta pruyer, does ta ? " 
 
 " Aw dew that ! Doan't yo' ? " 
 
 And Jabe, with a great tear on each cheek, 
 put his hand gently on Sniggy's shoulder, and 
 said — 
 
 " Aw dew, lad ! Aw dew ! " 
 
 And a month later Sniggy and Sally were 
 married at the chapel, and a little while after 
 they applied for the post of chapel-keepers on 
 the understanding that there was to be no pay 
 — "Just ta' mak' up fur th' past," said Sally.
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 I 
 
 A Lawyer's Letter
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 
 A Lawyer's Letter 
 
 LiGE, the road-mender, was in the " doldrums." 
 His open-air occupation exposed him to the 
 exigencies of cHmate, and so, driven indoors 
 by stress of weather, he had as usual spent 
 most of a certain very wet afternoon at the 
 Clog Shop. 
 
 For a man of his volatile temperament he had 
 had very little to say all afternoon, and even 
 when Isaac brought "baggin"' for Jabe and him, 
 and arranged it on one of the old clog benches 
 which served as inglenook stools, Lige only 
 seemed faintly interested. 
 
 As nobody else was about, Jabe had departed 
 so far from his usual custom as to make remarks 
 once or twice about Lige's unusual flatness, but 
 they evoked no response. These old cronies 
 had long ago got past the stage when persons 
 feel it necessary to maintain conversation whilst 
 
 143
 
 J44 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 together, and so there were several long silences 
 whilst tea was being consumed. 
 
 Presently, as Jabe was crowding into his 
 mouth an enormous piece of toast, Lige suddenly 
 leaned forward, and scowling with a look of 
 relentless resolution, tapped the dogger's knee 
 with his teacup by way of punctuating every 
 word he was uttering, and said — 
 
 " If hoo awses [offers] ageean, Aw'll — Aw'll 
 leeave th' village." 
 
 Jabe, with butter-smeared lips, slowly con- 
 sumed his toast without deigning even to look 
 at Lige, who still remained in the attitude he 
 had assumed when speaking, and continued to 
 glare fiercely at his friend. 
 
 Then the Clogger tucked into his mouth- 
 corner the last bit of toast, took a gulp at his 
 tea, reached out for another slice of toast, and 
 leaning back and thoughtfully examining it, 
 as if doubtful about the way it had been 
 buttered, remarked, with a jerk of his short 
 leg— 
 
 " Th' clug's upo' th' t'other fooat if Aw know 
 owt abaat it." 
 
 " Ay,theer thaa gooas," cried Lige impatiently ; 
 " a chap met as weel try ta get warm ale aat of 
 a alicker [vinegar] barril as get a bit o' comfort 
 aat o' thee." 
 
 Jabe took a long pull at his teacup, and then 
 holding it from him, and looking intently into 
 the cup-bottom, said —
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 145 
 
 " It's no' comfort as tJiaa wants ; it's a cleawt 
 o' th' soide o' th' yed. If tha'd let th' woman 
 alooan hoo'd let thi alooan." 
 
 " Well of aw th' aggravatin' haands " — cried 
 Lige ; but his feelings were too much for him, 
 and he sat up and stared at the tantalising Jabe 
 with amazement, indignant protest, reproachful 
 expostulation, and a shade of guilty self-con- 
 sciousness chasing each other on his face. 
 
 Jabe went on munching at his toast in cal- 
 culated unconcern, and carefully avoided the 
 road-mender's eye, whilst Lige, continuing his 
 amazed and indignant look, at length gasped 
 out — 
 
 " Tha'U threeap me daan as Aw zvaiit th' 
 woman next." 
 
 And Jabe, with a look of most provoking 
 placidity, went on slowly eating and drinking, 
 and saying by his whole manner more plainly 
 than words would have expressed it that that 
 was exactly what he ^zV/ think — which, of course, 
 only made Lige the more uneasy and angry. 
 
 The fact was that the poor road-mender was 
 not as consistent and steadfast a supporter of 
 his great chief on the vexed question of women 
 as that worthy could have desired, and this was 
 therefore one of his modes of inflicting punish- 
 ment. As a general thing Lige out-Heroded 
 Herod in his scorn of the sex, but there were 
 certain more or less frequent and regular back- 
 slidings, during which he was absent for days 
 
 10
 
 146 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 together from the Clog Shop, and was heard of 
 in the direction of "th' Hawpenny Gate," where 
 a certain lady leech-keeper resided, and after 
 some four or five days he would suddenly turn 
 up again, having a ruffled and irritable air about 
 him, but with a new and quite suggestive readi- 
 ness to abuse and scoff at the slavery of married 
 life. 
 
 On these occasions, too, he would drop darkly 
 mysterious hints about the "fawseniss" of 
 women and their " invayglin' " wa}-s, with 
 oblique references to the fable of the spider 
 and the fly, and it was easy to see that he 
 wished it to be inferred that he "could a tale 
 unfold," if he chose, from the standpoint of the 
 fly, and that he was himself an unwilling victim 
 of female beguilement, and only preserved his 
 liberty by constant heroic efforts and by marvels 
 of diplomatic checkmating. 
 
 But, like many other innocent martyrs, Lige 
 found that his friends were unsympathetic and 
 unbelieving, and even — such is the perversencss 
 of human nature — undertook to defend the 
 female he professed to be afraid of from his 
 insinuations. 
 
 Now, these occasional lapses into amatory 
 weakness had been going on intermittently for 
 some eighteen months, Lige's sentiments running 
 the whole gamut of feeling from uncompromis- 
 ing misogamy to ardent love-sickness every two 
 or three months. And the Clog Shop cronies
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 147 
 
 took a sort of unhallowed delight in watching 
 the mental and conversational contortions of 
 their friend in his laborious efforts to convince 
 them that he was a victim to be pitied rather 
 than a backslider to be blamed. 
 
 Now, it was perfectly well known to all the 
 chief spirits of the Clog Shop that Lige's only- 
 reason for remaining unmarried was that the 
 lady of his second choice objected on the 
 very unromantic ground that the road-mender 
 couldn't afford to keep her. In fact, she had 
 stated as much in the plainest possible Beckside 
 English to her ardent suitor, and the verdict of 
 the Clog Shop was : " Hoo's a sensible body — 
 for a woman." 
 
 But Lige scorned to attribute so sordid a 
 motive to the lady of his heart, and, moreover, 
 was known to be exceedingly sensitive on the 
 question of his poverty. No one would ever 
 have guessed from his manner that he was not 
 as well off as any of his chums. He talked 
 sometimes of projects involving what would be 
 to him impossible sums of money, and always 
 included himself in any scheme which might be 
 under discussion as at least equal to the rest in 
 worldly resources ; and they, although grimly, 
 almost savagely, intolerant of everything savour- 
 ing of hypocrisy, actually became his accomplices 
 in this work of self-deception, and would have 
 lost confidence in themselves for ever if by 
 even the slightest and most indirect reference
 
 148 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 they had shown that they were aware of any 
 difference between him and them. 
 
 At the same time it is not to be supposed 
 that they let him alone on this question of his 
 weak leaning towards possible matrimony ; but 
 they confined themselves to charging him with 
 desertion of his friends, and hypocrisy in his 
 attitude towards the other sex, and persistently 
 refused to believe that the lady had made any 
 overtures to him on her own initiative, or in fact 
 an}- overtures at all. And though scrupulously 
 avoiding the least hint as to the real reason, they 
 did not spare him on others, such, for instance, 
 as his personal appearance and idiosyncrasies, 
 Sam Speck being specially severe on him for 
 his lack of manners. 
 
 The conversation with which this chapter 
 opens is but a sample of many such between 
 Lige and his friends. On this occasion, however, 
 a diversion occurred which for a time put Lige's 
 matrimonial leanings out of everybody's mind. 
 Whilst Jabe and the road-mender were sitting 
 thus over tea, Lige restive and indignant, and 
 the Clogger dogged and aggressively sarcastic, 
 the shop door opened, and Peter the postman 
 sauntered slowly up to the fire and began to fill 
 his short black pipe. He had finished his long 
 morning round some time before, and was 
 now on his way to commence the night 
 collection. 
 
 " Does oather o' yo' chaps know awmbry caw'd
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 149 
 
 E. Howarth ? " he asked, as he stooped to get a 
 Hght at the fire. 
 
 " Thaa meeans Harry Howarth o' th' Brick- 
 croft," said Jabe, looking up. 
 
 " Nay, Aw dunno ; that's 'Haitch' thaa knows, 
 an' this is ' Hee.' Besides, it's a lawyer's letter, 
 an' Harry ne'er gets inta ony lumber. He's as 
 quiet as an owd sheep." 
 
 "A lawyer's letter ?" cried Jabe; "less lewk 
 at it." 
 
 Peter produced the letter — a long, blue packet, 
 with a terribly legal look about it, and embossed 
 on the back, " Briggs, Barber, and Briggs, 
 Solicitors, Whipliam," 
 
 On the other side it was directed to Mr. E. 
 Howarth, Beckside, Brogden, near Duxbury. 
 
 Jabe read the name on the back of the 
 envelope several times over, and then turned 
 the packet over and scrutinised the directions. 
 Then he limped across the shop for his 
 spectacles, carefully rubbed them on his red 
 cotton handkerchief, put them on, and once 
 more examined the missive back and front. 
 Then he held it at arm's-length, and looking 
 thoughtfully at it, murmured ponderingly — 
 
 " Hee Howarth ! Hee Howarth ! Whoaiver 
 is it fur ? " 
 
 " It meeans trubbel fur sumbry, that's sartin," 
 said Lige. " Less leuk at it." 
 
 He knew it was useless to hope to obtain 
 possession of the packet, and so he contented
 
 I50 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 himself with stepping upon a stool and looking 
 over the dogger's shoulder. 
 
 " Th' felley con wroite at ony rate," he com- 
 mented, scanning the directions with knitted 
 brows. 
 
 But at that moment in walked Sam Speck. 
 Peter the postman, when in difficulties about 
 the ownership of a letter, often resorted to that 
 fountain of local knowdedge, the Clog Shop, for 
 help, and so Sam was not greatly surprised to 
 find his comrades thus engaged. Lige's elevated 
 position, however, struck him as irregular, and 
 as indicative of something interesting, and so, 
 as the road-mender held the point of vantage 
 over the dogger's shoulder, Sam, when the 
 situation had been explained to him, bent down 
 upon his haunches, and whilst Jabe and Lige 
 were scrutinising the directions he was examin- 
 ing the embossed stamp on the under side. A 
 look of alarm came into his e}'es, and he gave 
 vent to a prolonged whistle, as he discovered 
 that the letter emanated from a lawyer. 
 
 " By gum, lads, there's sumbry in for it ! Hee 
 Howarth. Hee Howarth," he went on, scratch- 
 ing his head and knitting his brows, '■ Hee 
 How — Whey, Lige, thaa bermyed, it's tJiec^ 
 
 Lige started v\-ith a short cry. The letter 
 slipped from Jabe's suddenly nerveless fingers 
 and fluttered to the ground, and both the 
 Clogger and the postman turned quickly round 
 and stared at Lige in fear and sorrow.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 151 
 
 Ligc dropped from the stool and sat down 
 with a sudden flop, and, shrinking back as if he 
 were afraid of the letter making for him, cried 
 out — 
 
 " It isna me ! It isna me ! Azvve done nowt. 
 Aw hav'na ! Aw hav'na ! ! " 
 
 There was a moment of awful stillness, and 
 then Sam Speck stooped and picked up the now 
 terrifying letter, and carefully read the directions 
 once more. 
 
 " Ay ! " he said, with a great sigh ; " it's reet ! " 
 
 " Hee, that's ' Elijah,' an' ' Howarth '—it's thee, 
 lad," and the tone of the remark conveyed the 
 idea that Sam felt that some awful mysterious 
 trouble had overtaken his old friend. 
 
 With another heavy sigh, Sam held out the 
 letter to Lige, but the road-mender shrank back 
 on his stool as if afraid of being burned, and 
 wildly waving his hands, he cried — 
 
 "It is?ia me.\ It isna" — And then with a 
 pathetic break in his voice — " Haa con ta say 
 soa, Sam ? " 
 
 Just then Long Ben entered, and having been 
 made acquainted with the trouble in hand, he 
 stood and looked at Lige with the same pitiful 
 commiseration in his eyes that showed in the 
 faces of the others. 
 
 Then he took the letter and examined it care- 
 fully. 
 
 " Briggs, Barber, and Briggs," he cogitated, 
 and then he stopped and his jaw dropped. The
 
 152 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 look of pity in his eyes deepened into alarm, 
 and he suddenly checked himself of an intention 
 to speak, for he had just remembered that Mr. 
 Barber, the senior living partner of the firm from 
 which the letter had come, was the clerk to the 
 magistrates at Whipham. A deep sigh escaped 
 him, and he held out the letter to the frightened 
 Lige. 
 
 But the poor road-mender shrank away from 
 it, and burying his head in his hands, groaned 
 out a sort of smothered sob. The rest stood 
 looking at Lige with disturbed and anxious 
 faces, and at last Jabe burst out — 
 
 " Liger, hast bin foomart huntin' ? " 
 
 " Neaw ! neaw ! " cried Lige intensely ; " Aw've 
 bin noawheer, an' Aw've done nowt ta noabry." 
 
 Jabe paused a minute, eyeing the road-mender 
 meditatively the while, and then remembering 
 one of Lige's youthful besetments, he asked — 
 
 " Hast bin pooachin' then ? " 
 
 " Neaw ; Aw've bin noawheer, Aw tell thi," and 
 Lige gave vent to another dismal groan. 
 
 " Give o'er wi' thi, Lige," cried Jabe, now 
 nearly as agitated as his friend. " Sithi, lad. 
 Wheer thaa goas, Aw goa ; an' aw th' lyin' 
 lawyers i' Lancashire shanna hurt thi." 
 
 " Haa yo' meyther," broke in Peter the post- 
 man ; " it's happen nubbut a jury summons or a 
 subpeeny." 
 
 " Nay," said Jabe, with a perplexed sigh, " th' 
 bobbies brings them, thaa knows."
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 153 
 
 But the suggestion of other causes for lawyers' 
 letters than transgression of the law opened a 
 new field of speculation, and so Sam Speck 
 brightened up suddenly and cried — 
 
 " It's happen a fortin as sumbry's left thi, 
 Lige." 
 
 But Lige only shook his head wearily, and 
 groaned again. 
 
 Then Long Ben drew Jabe aside and 
 whispered — 
 
 " Dust think he's paid his rates ? " 
 
 But Ben was a poor whisperer, and before 
 Jabe could reply Lige groaned out from between 
 his fingers — 
 
 " Aw pay 'em i' th' rent." 
 
 This state of things was fast becoming un- 
 bearable. Jabe especially seemed scarcely able 
 to control himself, and so he cried, though not 
 without secret misgivings — 
 
 " Lige, ger up wi' thi an' oppen this letter. 
 If thaa doesn't Aw'st oppen it mysel'." 
 
 " Tak' it aat o' my seet ! " cried Lige, with a 
 fresh gesture of fear. 
 
 Jabe took hold of the letter. 
 
 " It's nowt," he cried, with an affectation of 
 contempt which he did not quite feel ; but he 
 lingered a long time with the packet, handling 
 it with great care and turning it over and over 
 again, and it would have been difficult to say 
 whether fear or curiosity was stronger in him. 
 
 Then he examined the flap of the envelope,
 
 154 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 and remarked that if it had had " owt woth out " 
 in it, it would have been sealed. After toying 
 with it a moment or two longer, he stepped 
 across the shop floor and lighted a candle, and 
 then selecting very deliberately one of his knives, 
 and carefully cleaning it, he picked up the 
 candle, brought it near the fire, gave it to the 
 postman to hold, and making a sudden dash, 
 cut open the letter. 
 
 Now it is quite certain that the Clogger did 
 not really comprehend one word of the docu- 
 ment the first time he read it. His business 
 seems to have been to discover not what it was, 
 but what it was not^ and this he managed so 
 successfully that he turned round to his woe- 
 begone friend, and cried with a sudden accession 
 of confidence — 
 
 " Ger up, thaa ninny hommer, ther's nowt to 
 be feart on here," 
 
 Lige did not move, but only emitted a slightly 
 lighter groan, but Long Ben and Sam drew 
 nearer, and looking over the Clogger's shoulder, 
 prompted and corrected as he read out as 
 follows, much as if he were a town crier: — 
 
 "To Mr. Elijah Howarth, Beckside. 
 
 (Another groan from the poor road-mender.) 
 
 " Sir, — Our late client, Mr. Abram Howarth, 
 who died recently in this town, left a will in 
 which you are named sole executor and legatee.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 155 
 
 If you will call at our office on Saturday morn- 
 ing between ten and one, we shall be pleased to 
 explain the will and take your esteemed com- 
 mands thereupon. 
 
 " We are, dear Sir, your obedient servants, 
 " Briggs, Barber, and Briggs." 
 
 It is be}'ond the power of the present reporter 
 to describe the faces of the little company when 
 Jabe finished reading. He took off his glasses 
 and blinked his grey e3^es at Ben in speechless 
 wonder, and Ben returned the look with a dull, 
 uncomprehending stare. The postman burst 
 into a loud laugh, and Sam Speck, after looking 
 from one to the other of his friends to make 
 sure that they had heard, suddenly pushed Ben 
 aside, and standing over the still bent form of 
 Lige, smote him heavily between the shoulders, 
 and shouted — • 
 
 " Speik, mon ! Didn't Aw tell thi it wur a 
 fort in ? " 
 
 It was some time before the road-mender 
 could realise the meaning of the letter, and when 
 he did, he stood up and gazed abstractedly into 
 the fire, apparently oblivious both of the con- 
 gratulations that were offered to him, and the 
 wild guesses in which his comrades indulged 
 as to the amount of the legacy. 
 
 After the excitement had abated somewhat, 
 they found their accustomed places round the 
 fire, and the pipes having been lighted, the
 
 156 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 situation was discussed in all its bearings. Lige 
 said very little for the first hour or so, but he 
 amply atoned for his silence afterwards by 
 monopolising nearly all the conversation. 
 
 Then the talk turned upon the old man who 
 had died, and whom most of the company 
 remembered with recollections the reverse of 
 pleasant. Lige confessed that he had only seen 
 his deceased relative some half a dozen times, 
 and had not exchanged twenty words with him 
 in his life. Nobody knew anything good of 
 him, saving always this last most commendable 
 act of his. Then guesses were made as to the 
 probable amount of the bequest, and memories 
 were raked to recall the various small properties 
 which it was known the old man had purchased 
 during his lifetime. 
 
 Sam Speck, who seemed to be touched with a 
 little envious jealousy of Lige's newly-acquired 
 importance, opined that most of the property 
 had " summat on it," and might not realise much 
 after all ; but Jabe, after a cold, withering look 
 at the evil-minded detractor, turned to Lige, 
 and said — - 
 
 " It's a lung loan [lane] as niver hes a turn, 
 lad ; if tha'rt woth a penny tha'rt woth a 
 paand a wik," and had the sum been a million a 
 week Jabe could not have made a more impres- 
 sive mouthful of it. Then the conversation took 
 a practical turn, and as Lige did not seem to 
 have quite recovered his fear of the lawyers, it
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 157 
 
 was arranged that two of his friends should 
 accompany him next morning to Whipham ; and 
 retribution now overtook the envious Sam, for 
 he was omitted from this important deputation, 
 though he was admittedly Lige's very closest 
 friend. 
 
 Lige lived on the edge of the Brickcroft, and, 
 of course, went home the same way as Ben. 
 
 When they had parted at the carpenter's gate, 
 and Ben had reached his own front door, he 
 heard Lige, who had suddenly turned back, 
 calling him. When they met at the garden gate 
 Lige seemed to have forgotten what he wanted 
 to say. He stood back a moment, looked round 
 on the dim outlines of the buildings about him, 
 and then said, though not as indifferently as he 
 had intended — 
 
 " Ben, when my owd woman deed and hoo 
 worn't i' th' club, an' Aw'd nowt ta bury her wi', 
 an' when Aw went raand after th' buryin' ta ax 
 them foak ta gi' me toime an' Aw'd pay 'em, 
 they aw said as a chap 'ud bin afoor me, an' paid 
 'em aw. Dust know whoa that chap wur?" 
 
 Ben seemed suddenly to have become intensely 
 interested in a little dim far-away star, the only 
 one visible that cloudy night, and so he answered, 
 with a fair pretence of preoccupation — ■ 
 
 " Nay ! Haa dew Aw know ? " 
 
 Then Lige took another look round at the 
 shadowy building, and went on — 
 
 ■'An' when Aw wur aat o' wark for eighteen
 
 158 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 wik, an' wur feart o' my loife o' being turnt aat 
 o' th' haase fur rent, an' when Aw started o' 
 rooad-mendin' fur th' parish, an' began a shapin' 
 fur t' pay my back rent up, Owd Croppy towd 
 me as it 'ud bin paid ivery wik, Thaa doesn't 
 know whoa did that, Aw reacon ? " 
 
 " Nay, Liger ; dunno ! Thi brass is makkin' 
 thee suspeecious. Howd thi bother, mon ! " 
 
 " Bother ! Ay, ther'll be some bother, Aw 
 con tell thi, if this comes aat reet. Ben Barber 
 'ull ha' ta build a new haase fur Mestur Hce. 
 An' ov a Setterday mornin', when Ben Barber 
 has na getten paid fur his wark an' conna foind 
 wages fur his men, th' fat 'ull be i' th' feire if he 
 doesna ger it off Mestur Hce. Naa, moind thi, 
 fro' this day henceforth an' for iver — a-a — partly 
 wot, Ben Barber's banker's IMestur Hee — Mestur 
 Hee." 
 
 And with a glow of triumph at his own 
 brilliant effort, Lige plunged into the darkness 
 and disappeared. 
 
 Next morning three solemn-looking figures, 
 dressed in funereal black, and with long grave 
 faces to match, stood by the Clog Shop door 
 waiting for the Duxbury coach. Their three 
 hats all belonged to the same bygone period of 
 fashion, and Lige's had a most suggestive and 
 transient shininess about it. His best coat also 
 was distinguished from the others by a more 
 pronounced greenness of colour, and this was 
 made the more noticeable by the fact that Jonas
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 159 
 
 Tatlock's trousers, which had been lent to the 
 new man of property for this great occasion, 
 were nearly new and of a glossy black. 
 
 As the coach came into sight, Sam Speck 
 joined the company. He seemed to have got 
 over his pique, and was inclined to chaff. 
 
 He called Lige " Mestur Howarth," and then 
 on sudden recollection tried " Mestur Hee," but 
 neither this, nor his warning that it was Dux- 
 bury Wakes, and they were not to "chuck th' 
 fortin away at ghooast shows and hot pey staws " 
 before they came home, raised a smile, and the 
 coach moved off presently carrying three men 
 with faces of owlish solemnity. 
 
 Arrived at Whipham, an argument arose as to 
 who should lead the way into the office. Lige 
 seemed astonished that the question should be 
 raised at all, and looking at the Clogger with an 
 injured, reproachful look, he demanded — 
 
 " Wot hast come fur if tha winna leead 
 up?" 
 
 " It's no' my fortin," protested Jabe indig- 
 nantly. " It's thee they wanten, nor uz." And 
 he might have been disavowing a great crime to 
 judge by the earnestness of his protestation. 
 
 Lige took a long, hesitant look from one to 
 the other of his friends, then turned and gazed 
 earnestly at the green baize inner door of the 
 office ; then glanced apprehensively up and 
 down the street, and finally cried, with desperate 
 resolution —
 
 i6o RECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Aw'st no' goa in fost for noather on yo'. 
 Aw'll lose th' fortin fost." 
 
 After a few minutes more of wrangling, during 
 which Lige became more and more terrified at 
 the thought of facing the lawyer, and more and 
 more reckless as to what became of the fortune, 
 Jabe suddenly broke away from the other two, 
 and began limping up the steps so earnestly 
 that they^ only caught him as he was pushing 
 open the dingy green door. 
 
 " Is th' mestur in ? " he demanded, glaring 
 fiercely at the clerks. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said a fussy penman, whom Lige 
 immediately began to regard with strong 
 suspicion. " Have you an appointment? " 
 
 " Neaw ; we wanten t' see th' mestur." And 
 then, turning half round to Lige, he demanded, 
 "Where's th' letter, Liger?" 
 
 The clerk glanced at the packet. " Oh, 
 come this way, gentlemen." 
 
 " Mr. Howarth, of Beckside, sir," he called 
 out, raising his voice a little, and addressing 
 some invisible personage. 
 
 It took a little time to get the three 
 villagers piloted round desk ends, through 
 counter flaps, and behind dirty red curtains, 
 and when it was successfully accomplished, 
 and they stood before the great Mr. Barber, 
 Lige, at any rate, looked as if he were come 
 to make confession of some awful crime, 
 whilst Jabe took off his hat and rubbed his
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY i6i 
 
 perspiring face and head with his red hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 The lawyer began by addressing Jabe as 
 I\Ir. Howarth, and when that error had been 
 corrected, and Lige had been dragged to the 
 front hke a rekictant culprit, the business 
 began. It was soon made clear that there was 
 no doubt about the reality of Lige's good 
 fortune. He actually was sole heir of the 
 late Abram Howarth, his uncle. The estate 
 consisted chiefly of small properties, mostly in 
 or about Brogden Clough, and would bring in 
 about twenty-five shillings per week. There 
 would be certain formalities to be gone through, 
 probate, etc., would have to be paid, and then 
 Mr. Barber told Lige he would be able to enter 
 into formal possession of a nice little inherit- 
 ance. Mr. Barber was also happy to tell Mr. 
 Howarth that there was a good round sum 
 of hard cash in the Duxbury Bank, which 
 would pay all expenses and leave a comfortable 
 margin. 
 
 By this time Lige began to feel his new 
 importance, and talked with most surprising 
 freedom to the solicitor. The law}'er con- 
 gratulated Lige again, and cracked a little 
 joke, at which Jabe and Long Ben smiled 
 with dignified condescension, and Lige laughed 
 uproariously. 
 
 As they were leaving, Mr. Barber called them 
 back. 
 
 II
 
 i62 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " If you want a little cash for immediate use, 
 you know, Mr. Howarth," he began ; but Lige 
 received a sharp kick on the right foot from 
 Jabe, and a gentle nudge on the left elbow 
 from Ben, and so, without giving the least sign 
 that he understood, he answered, as if cash 
 were the very last thing in the world he either 
 needed or cared for — 
 
 " Neaw, neaw ! toime enuff ta bother wi' that 
 when Av/'ve getten it gradely." 
 
 And then Lige had a sudden sense of having 
 outwitted a man of law, and was so elated 
 thereat, that, as he was going through the 
 outer office, he turned, and, surveying the 
 clerks with a glance of magnificent condescen- 
 sion, he asked — 
 
 " Which o' yo' chaps wor it as wrate that letter 
 tame?" 
 
 " I, sir," said the fussy clerk who had intro- 
 duced them to the lawyer, and who evidently 
 saw signs of a tip. 
 
 " Thee, wor it ! Well, th' next toime as tha 
 sends me a letter, send it ta ' Liger Howarth,' 
 an' nooan o' thi * Mestur Hee's ' ; " and with 
 a glance of mingled scorn and warning, Lige 
 followed his friends into the street.
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 II 
 
 A Question of Conscience 
 
 163
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 II 
 
 A Question of Conscience 
 
 There was no help for it. Sam Speck was 
 being driven into cynicism in spite of himself. 
 It was his duty, he knew, to fight against the 
 tendency, and he did so, but sometimes circum- 
 stances seemed altogether too strong for him. 
 Here was a case in point. He thought he 
 knew his old friend Lige. He boasted, in fact, 
 that he could read him like a book. Nothing, 
 he thought, would ever change Lige much ; 
 and here, as soon as ever there was a prospect 
 of an improvement in his financial position, 
 he was becoming sly and mysterious, and was 
 changing from the most open-hearted and least 
 worldly of spirits, to a calculating, reticent, and 
 money-loving soul. 
 
 Lige's sudden enrichment was, of course, the 
 chief topic of conversation round the Clog Shop 
 fire, but Sam marked with concern that whilst 
 
 165
 
 i66 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the road-mender was ready enough to hear 
 others discuss his prospects, he said very Httle 
 about them himself, and it was not until about 
 nine o'clock in the evening, when the company 
 was largest and discussion most stimulating, 
 that Lige opened his mind about his future 
 intentions at all. When thus temporarily 
 elated by congratulations and encouragements, 
 Lige would assert vociferously what he in- 
 tended to do, but Sam observed with misgiv- 
 ings that he not only made no allusions to 
 his intentions next morning, but could not 
 be drawn to speak about them at all. 
 
 For instance, Lige had been apprehensive 
 for some time that his " rheumatiz " would 
 before long prevent him working, and compel 
 him to relinquish his situation ; and now, when 
 he had ample means to keep him without work, 
 he seemed to have become suddenly very much 
 in love with it. Two or three times Sam had 
 turned the conversation so as to bring this 
 question to the front, and under the influence 
 of popular opinion Lige had resolved to give 
 up his employment. On one or two occasions 
 he had got excited about the matter, and had 
 openly declared, *' Av/'ll niver breik another 
 stooan woll Aw'm wik." But next morning 
 Sam had discovered him hammering away as 
 usual on a heap of stones, or digging clumps 
 of weeds out of the gutters. 
 
 And now Lige had actually come into pos-
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 167 
 
 session of his fortune, and Sam had been with 
 him to make the final call upon the lawyer at 
 Whipham, and to bring his cash and deposit it 
 in the Duxbury Bank. 
 
 It was long past noon by the time they had 
 finished their business, and Sam was hungry. 
 Two or three times he had dropped palpable 
 hints about his condition, but Lige only seemed 
 to understand when the hints became plain 
 unvarnished avowals of hunger ; and, even then, 
 instead of taking him to a decent inn, Lige 
 led him off to an old-fashioned cookshop, and 
 ordered, as if he had been calling for turtle 
 soup, " Tew plates o' tatey pie — big uns." 
 And Sam noticed, as a painful confirmation of 
 his fears, that though the road - mender had 
 twenty pounds to his certain knowledge in a 
 little bag in his left-hand pocket, yet he paid 
 for the repast out of the few spare pence he 
 carried in the other pocket. 
 
 After dinner, as they had to wait a couple 
 of hours for the coach, they walked about the 
 town and inspected the shops. Sam pulled up 
 before every clothier's shop he came to, but 
 neither broad hints nor excessive commendation 
 of certain patterns of cloth and suits of clothes 
 had the least effect on Lige ; and when Sam, 
 exercised in his mind about the rapid deteriora- 
 tion and threatened spiritual destruction of a 
 man who had grown miserly on the very first 
 day of his affluence, pointedly admired a certain
 
 ins BECKSTDE LIGHTS 
 
 stylish overcoat and recommended its prompt 
 purchase, Lige seemed to become suddenly 
 suspicious and sly, and wriggled out of making 
 the purchase on some niost tri\'ial pretext. 
 And, of course, Sam could not tell his friend 
 plain out that his best clothes had been green 
 and shabby for years. 
 
 All these things were very depressing to our 
 mercurial friend ; but when he discovered that 
 Lige was going back to Beckside on the day 
 when he had come into formal possession of his 
 inheritance, and v.-ith twenty pounds sterling 
 in his pocket, without taking even so much as 
 half a pound of tobacco back to his friends 
 at the Clog Shop wherewith to celebrate the 
 occasion, he came dangerously near to wishing 
 that his old friend had remained poor, and was 
 almost thankful that the fortune had not come 
 to himself to tempt him. Two or three times, 
 as they travelled home on the coach, he glanced 
 thoughtfully at the road-mender's face, and was 
 almost certain that he perceived signs there that 
 the hardening process had already begun. 
 
 Sitting at the Clog Shop fire that night, Sam 
 kept a careful watch on Lige, making as he did 
 so many pessimistic notes on the weakness of 
 human nature. 
 
 Lige received the congratulations of his 
 friends with a becoming show of meekness, 
 took all chaff in good part, and even joked 
 himself about his good luck ; but, for all that.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 169 
 
 Sam could sec that he was a chan^^ccl man, 
 and was fast becoming grasping and worldly. 
 
 As the evening went on, Sam resolved that he 
 would remain behind and inform Jabe of his 
 suspicions. But the rest would not go. Lige— 
 an earh' riser, and therefore one of the first to 
 depart of an evening — would not go, and Long 
 Ben, who was supposed to live in wholesome 
 fear of his wife, seemed also reluctant to leave ; 
 and when Sam remarked, as a kind of suggestive 
 hint, that it was " toime ta be piking," he was 
 provoked and perplexed to see both Lige 
 and the carpenter deliberately commence re- 
 charging their pipes. 
 
 To make it worse, as he had himself started the 
 movement for home, he found himself obliged 
 in common consistency to follow it up, and so, 
 after standing about for a little time, and going 
 to the door and then coming back again some 
 two or three times, he was reluctantly compelled 
 to depart, leaving Lige sitting in most aggravat- 
 ing contentment by the fire. 
 
 When he reached his own door, which was 
 on the other side of the road going to the mill, 
 he still felt uneasy, and most unaccountably 
 curious, and when he saw Long Ben leave the 
 Clog Shop a minute or two later, and realised 
 that now Lige and Jabe would be alone, it 
 was all he could do to restrain himself from 
 going back and bursting in upon them, excuse 
 or no excuse.
 
 I70 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Meanwhile Jabe and Lige sat quietly smoking 
 in the inglenook, Lige having a very abstracted 
 look on his face. The Clogger eyed him over 
 with quiet interest, two or three times, as if 
 speculating as to what was going on in his 
 mind ; but neither spoke. Presently, however, 
 Lige leaned back in the nook, and putting his 
 feet on the bench on which he sat, he asked, 
 taking his pipe out of his mouth, and putting 
 his head slightly on one side in an argumenta- 
 tive attitude — 
 
 " Naa, haa mitch a wik dust think a chap 
 loike me owt ta give away, Jabe ? " 
 
 " Wot ! " cried the Clogger, with a curl of his lip, 
 " is thi brass brunnin' thi pockets aat awready ? " 
 
 " Aw'd rayther it ud brun my pocket nor 
 freeze my soul," was the reply. 
 
 After a moment's silence, Jabe said — 
 
 " Th' Jews uset give a tenth." 
 
 " Haa mitch is a tenth o' twenty-five shillin' ? " 
 was the next question. 
 
 " Hawf a craan." 
 
 And now it was time for Lige's lip to curl, 
 and it did so until he looked positively fierce 
 with scorn. ' 
 
 " Aw allis thowt them Jews wur skinny uns 
 ■ — but that cops aw — the greedy wastrils." 
 
 " Whey, wot does thaa think foak owt ta 
 give? " asked Jabe, in lazy curiosity. 
 
 " T'oan hawf bi' th' t'other, fur sure " (a fair 
 half), was the reply.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 171 
 
 Jabe burst into a great laugh — a laugh which 
 somehow Jiad to be very loud in order to 
 prevent it becoming something quite different. 
 In the midst of it, however, a thought seemed 
 to strike him, and, bending forward, he asked 
 very seriously— 
 
 " Thaa's browt sum brass whoam wi' thi ta- 
 day, hast na ? " 
 
 " Ay," said Lige ; " twenty paand," and he 
 hit the outside of his trousers-pocket to indicate 
 that he had it with him. 
 
 " Thaa'd better leeave it wi' me ta tak' cur on 
 fur thi." 
 
 Now, though he made this proposal very 
 seriously, the Clogger did not really expect 
 that Lige would comply ; and so he was a little 
 taken aback when the road - mender drew a 
 greasy bag out of his pocket and handed it to 
 him. 
 
 "Jabe, owd lad," he said softly, "Aw hevna 
 spent a penny o' my fortin yet, an' Aw'm no' 
 goin' ta dew till th' Lord's hed the fost pick. 
 Ther's twenty paand i' that bag, an' Aw want 
 th' trustees ta bey a new coffee-pot fur th' 
 Communion table — solid goold if it 'ull reich 
 tew it ! " 
 
 Jabe stared at his friend in amazement ; but 
 Lige was proceeding — 
 
 " When Aw wur th' poor steward twenty ye'r 
 sin', an' th' plate box wur kept at aar haase, aar 
 Jane uset say, when hoo wur cleanin' th' vessils,
 
 172 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 as if hoo had th' brass hoo'd tak' cur as they 
 shouldna put 'th' best wine o' th' kingdom' into a 
 pewter pot as if it were sixpenny ale. An' iver 
 sin' hoo deed Aw've bin Hvin' i' hoapes o' seeing 
 her ageean ; an' up yond' wheer hoo is they 
 known abaat this fortin o' moine, an' aar Jane's 
 telh'n' 'em aw ' He'll be gettin' summat gradely 
 ta put th' wine in, yo'll see.' An' if Aw dunna, 
 Jabe, Aw darna face her up, an' that's God's 
 trewth, lad." 
 
 The Clogger had no answer to an argument 
 like this. He stared before him, and sniffed 
 and cleared his throat, and in the end had to 
 get up and turn his back on his companion. 
 
 When he recovered himself, he said — 
 
 " Aw ne'er yerd o' noa goold Communion 
 sarvices. They allis usen silver. Bud thaa con 
 bey a woll set, thaa knows." 
 
 And so it was settled ; and as Lige left the 
 Cloggery he was astonished at the Clogger, who 
 actually took him by the hand and gave it a 
 limp, timid sort of shake, as if he were unable 
 to resist doing so, and yet felt ashamed of it, 
 murmuring huskily, as he did so — 
 
 " God bless thi, lad ! Aw dunno think thi 
 brass 'uU spile thi." 
 
 When Sam Speck heard of Lige's proposal his 
 feelings were very much divided. He was in- 
 clined to feel injured that Lige had not taken 
 him into his confidence about the matter, and 
 yet he felt so ashamed of himself for having
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 173 
 
 harboured suspicions of his friend that he 
 refused himself the pleasure of rating Lige about 
 it as a sort of penance. Still, there was one 
 thing that greatly exercised his mind. Why 
 did not Lige give up his employment? He 
 talked of doing so, vowed again and again he 
 would do it, fixed the time for so doing more 
 than once, and yet every morning found him 
 going forth, as usual, with pick and shovel and 
 long-shafted hammer, to his work, 
 
 A week or two passed, and still no signs of 
 Lige's retirement, and at last, unable longer to 
 endure, Sam opened out upon his friend as they 
 sat by the Clog Shop fire — 
 
 " Tha'rt a bonny mon to be takkin' th' meit 
 aat o' foak's maaths." 
 
 Lige looked up in wonder. He had a feeling 
 that somehow the relations between him and 
 his friend were not so cordial as they used to be, 
 but he could think of no cause for it, and so he 
 answered rather curtly — 
 
 "Naa wot's up wi' thi?" 
 
 Sam cocked his elbow on his knee and 
 steadied his pipe in his mouth, and then, 
 removing it for a moment, went on — 
 
 " A chap as hez twenty-five shilHn' a wik 
 comin' in, an' a hunderd paand i' th' bank, 
 leuks well breiking stooans an' fillin' cart-ruts, 
 and takkin' wage as other foaks are starvin' 
 fur." 
 
 Lige winced, but he wasn't going to be taught
 
 174 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 his duty by so <:omparatively juvenile a person 
 as Sam, and so he replied — 
 
 "Aw reacon thaa wants th' job thisel' ! Thaa 
 leuks loike a felley as is starvin', sure//." 
 
 "Aw tell thi," persisted Sam, "as there's three 
 on 'em as Aw know on as is waitin' fur th' shop 
 [situation], an' it's nowt bud robbery." 
 
 Sam spoke with warmth, and the situation 
 was getting somewhat strained, and so Long 
 Ben, from the inside corner of the nook, chimed 
 in, to create a diversion — 
 
 " Hast bin to th' Hawpenny Gate lately, 
 Liger ? " 
 
 But this subject seemed to be quite as trouble- 
 some to Lige as the one Sam had started, and 
 so, to escape further banterings, he remembered 
 "a bit of a arrand," and disappeared, leaving Sam 
 receiving a mild reproof from the carpenter. 
 
 But Lige could not quite get rid of the 
 question Sam had thus pointedly raised, and 
 as he stood next day on the top of a heap of 
 stones, a little higher up the road than the 
 chapel, he mused thoughtfully on the previous 
 night's conversation. 
 
 The fact was, now that he had the chance 
 of giving up work altogether, he discovered an 
 interest in it which he had never realised before, 
 and found himself strangely reluctant to change. 
 And then he was more jealous of any tendency 
 to get vain because of his riches than ever Sam 
 could be for him, and suspected himself of all
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 175 
 
 sorts of grasping propensities, and was rather 
 glad therefore to continue his work as a means 
 of keeping the natural man in subjection. 
 
 The point raised by Sam had never occurred 
 to him, and he at once began to feel very guilty 
 about it. Then the remembrance of Ben's 
 interjected question came back to him. Away 
 from the curious eyes of his associates he could 
 afford to think as long and as freely as he liked 
 on the matter, and a smirk of satisfaction came 
 upon his face as he realised that his change of 
 fortune had immensely improved his matrimonial 
 prospects. 
 
 But all at once the smile vanished from his 
 lips. A look of perplexity came into his plain 
 old face, as if he were trying to recall something 
 that eluded his pursuit. Then his face became 
 portentously long, a deep sigh escaped him, 
 and, limply dropping his hammer, he got down 
 from the stone heap and propped himself 
 against the wall to think. But the more he 
 thought the worse he became. He passed his 
 hands over his brow, rubbed uneasily at his 
 stubbly chin, scratched both sides of his head 
 at once, and wriggled and twisted as if in the 
 grip of someone who was torturing him. Then 
 he stepped into the middle of the road, looked 
 dazedly round at the horizon with a helpless, 
 appealing sort of look, and a moment later he 
 plunged off down the " broo " in a v/alk which 
 only just escaped being a trot.
 
 176 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 He was making, of course, for the Clog Shop, 
 and as he reached it, he burst open the door, 
 and, ignoring the fact that Jabe was serving a 
 customer, cried excitedly — 
 
 "Whey, Jabe, the fortin isna moine." 
 
 Now the customer was a new-comer in the 
 village, and was rashly attempting to banter the 
 Clogger about the price charged for clogging — 
 a thing which every Becksider knew better than 
 do — and she had consequently stirred up the 
 old Adam in him. And so he replied in his 
 crustiest tones — 
 
 " Whoas else is it, thaa lumpyed ? " 
 
 But seeing that Lige was very much excited, 
 he added more mildly — 
 
 " Goa an' sit daan wi' thi," 
 
 But Lige was too distressed to sit, and so, 
 staring wildly at Jabe, he cried out, almost in 
 tears — 
 
 " Hey, mon, it's hers." 
 
 Jabe now realised that the matter was 
 serious ; and so, entirely ignoring the astounded 
 customer, he put on his spectacles, and, carefully 
 surveying the road-mender, demanded — 
 
 " Whoas ? " 
 
 " Hers, Aw tell thi," shouted Lige, almost 
 beside himself, " Jane Ann's, thaa knows. Hast 
 forgotten as hoo wur his chance-chilt. It's hers, 
 mon. It's no' moine at aw." 
 
 Jabe carefully counted out the change for the 
 customer, and then actually came round the
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 177 
 
 corner of the counter to open the door for her. 
 Then he carefully closed it, walked back to his 
 place again, and turning round, looked Lige 
 steadily in the face. 
 
 The fact was that, for once, speech had 
 entirely forsaken the old Clogger. The Jane 
 Ann alluded to was the very leech-keeping 
 woman whom Lige had been so unsuccessfully 
 wooing, and whose origin had been almost 
 forgotten at the end of her forty odd years of 
 life ; and when Jabe really grasped the whole 
 situation as it spread itself before his mind, it 
 simply took away both breath and speech. 
 
 Presently, more to relieve the tension than 
 with any idea that he was helping matters, 
 he said — 
 
 " Haa can it be hers when it wur left ta 
 thee?" 
 
 And Lige replied as Jabe knew he would, 
 when he said — 
 
 " Hers ! It is hers. Hoo's his dowter, 
 mon ! " 
 
 Jabe's perplexity was so sore that it galled 
 and vexed him, and so he replied hotly — 
 
 "Wot's left ta thee's thine, isn't it, thaa 
 numskull ? " 
 
 But Lige was indignant with an indignation 
 curiously blended with reluctance, and so he 
 replied, as if there was some sort of melancholy 
 gratification to be got out of making the facts 
 look as inexorable as possible —
 
 17^ BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Her fayther robbed her, an' naa Aw miin 
 rob her — is that what thaa meeans ? " 
 
 With a gesture of despairing anger, Jabe 
 turned his back on his friend, and Hmping 
 heavily to the fire, dropped down upon a stool, 
 looking the very joicture of helpless distress, and 
 in a moment or so Lige joined him, looking 
 if possible more miserable still. 
 
 After sitting staring into the fire for a long 
 time, Jabe in surly tones ordered Isaac to fetch 
 Long Ben. This was no time for half-measures. 
 Jabe was on the rack, and if he felt like that, 
 what must Lige be enduring. 
 
 It seemed as though Ben would never come, 
 although he had started the moment he was 
 summoned. But when he did arrive, and had 
 been put in possession of the facts of the case, 
 the look on his face banished from Jabe's heart 
 any hope that his more resourceful friend would 
 be able to find a way out. 
 
 There the three sat. Each man knew how 
 easy and natural it would be to take the way 
 of the world and its legal sanctions, and be 
 satisfied, or at most make some little allow- 
 ance to the neglected and overlooked daughter. 
 But each man saw also the inexorable require- 
 ments of righteousness, and to say that they 
 quailed before it is but to say that they were 
 men. 
 
 " He happen hed some reeason fur no' leeavin' 
 it to her," said Jabe at length, more to start
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 179 
 
 discussion than from any faith in his own 
 argument. 
 
 " Hog ne'er did nowt ta hurt him in her 
 loife," said Lige sternly, " nobbut keepin' on 
 livin'." 
 
 " Well, thaa con give her summat — soa mitch 
 a vvik, or summat." 
 
 " Ay, or else mak' a will an' Iceave it aw tew 
 her," added Ben. 
 
 Lige lifted up a haggard face and asked 
 quietly — 
 
 "WodV?" 
 
 The countenances of the two friends dropped 
 again, and there was a long silence. At last 
 Lige lifted his head and asked, with an 
 effort— 
 
 " Which on yo's goin' to the lawyer's wi' me 
 i' th' morn ? " 
 
 A startled look came into Jabe's eyes. He 
 jumped to his feet — 
 
 " Liger," he cried, with intense earnestness, 
 " promise me tew things. Fost, as tha'll wait a 
 wik afoor thaa does owt ; an' second, as tha'll 
 no' mention it to a soul till th' wik's up. Naa, 
 promise." 
 
 A week's respite seemed a little heaven to 
 Long Ben, and so he earnestly supported Jabe's 
 request; and truth to tell, poor Lige was not 
 unwilling to postpone so momentous a decision. 
 Then Ben said he must go back to work, and 
 Lige decided to do the same, and as he
 
 i8o BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 passed the shop window with strained and 
 heavy look, Jabe, gazing sorrowfully after him, 
 murmured — 
 
 " God help thi, Liger ! Tha'rt poor an' owd 
 an' simple, bud if thaa comes aat o' this o' th' 
 reet soide, tha'll be th' best men amung uz."
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 
 III 
 
 How the New Plate was Bought 
 
 asi
 
 Lige's Legacy 
 III 
 
 How the New Plate was Bought 
 
 There was no more work for poor Lige that 
 day. He tried ; but he found himself pausing 
 every few moments, and in his still bent posi- 
 tion staring at the stones under his feet, in set, 
 absorbed preoccupation. 
 
 Before he had been at work half an hour, 
 he stopped and started for the Clog Shop once 
 more, and was soon laying before Jabe some 
 new aspect of the case. After a while he 
 returned to his employment, but in a few 
 minutes he was again in consultation with his 
 friend. This sort of thing was repeated three 
 or four times as the day went on. 
 
 On one of these interviews, just as Lige was 
 returning to his work again, he suddenly turned 
 back, and leaning his body over the counter 
 until his mouth nearly touched the dogger's 
 ear, he charged him in a thick dramatic whisper
 
 i84 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 to keep the whole thing from " th' chaps," and 
 especially from Sam Speck. 
 
 As eveningdrew near,Lige'sexcitementbecame 
 almost uncontrollable. He was afraid to stay 
 at the Clog Shop lest he should be compelled 
 to confess his trouble to someone, and yet he was 
 afraid to be alone and have to fight his mental 
 conflicts by himself. And somehow, though he 
 felt sure his friends would all advise him to let 
 things alone, he was more confident of his 
 power to resist temptation when in company 
 than when alone. 
 
 Then he was afraid, too, that " th' chaps " 
 would by some means get the secret out of 
 Jabe, or even out of Long Ben, though he had 
 much more confidence in the latter than in the 
 former. And so he wanted to be near at hand, 
 that his presence might be a restraint on the 
 C logger. 
 
 Altogether Lige was in a most restless state 
 of mind, and throughout the early part of the 
 evening was passing in and out of the Clog 
 Shop every few minutes, one moment raising 
 some new point with the Clogger, and the next 
 charging him by most solemn warnings not to 
 let anybody even suspect what was the matter. 
 Then he would be seen posting off in haste 
 for home, which he never reached, and a few 
 minutes later he would come hurrying up the 
 hill with the inspiration of some totally new 
 phase of the case within him.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 185 
 
 Strange to say, the peppery Clogger bore it 
 all with a patience that was quite remarkable. 
 But the fact was, the problem so entirely 
 absorbed his own thoughts, that he answered 
 Lige's questions and instructions in a dazed 
 mechanical sort of way. 
 
 As the road-mender was stretching over the 
 counter, and warning Jabe, for at least the fifth 
 tim.e, of the danger of letting Sam know any- 
 thing about it, a sharp voice suddenly broke on 
 his ear, and Lige, hastily straightening himself, 
 turned round to face the very person he was 
 speaking of. 
 
 Lige made his face as straight as he could, 
 and tried to look easy and unconcerned ; but it 
 was a complete failure, Sam saw instantly that 
 something of very unusual interest was affecting 
 his friend, and also that Lige was very anxious 
 to conceal it from him. 
 
 Sam promptly suggested a " smook," and 
 Lige was so afraid of crossing him that he 
 agreed, and sat down to the first pipe he had 
 tried that day. He perched himself for a few 
 moments on a stool, where he could keep his 
 eye on both Sam and the Clogger, and thus pre- 
 vent any secret signalling between them. 
 
 Presently, however, Sam drew him into con- 
 versation, and the two got gradually farther 
 and farther into the inglenook, until the 
 Clogger could not hear what they were saying. 
 Then they dropped their voices still lower, and
 
 i86 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Jabe was tantalised by the feeling that the 
 lowering of their voices meant the deepening of 
 their interest in the subject under discussion, of 
 which he could not hear a word. 
 
 All at once, however, there was an amazed 
 cry from out of the nook, and Sam could be 
 seen standing up, and looking excitedly from 
 Lige to Jabe, and from Jabe back to Lige, as 
 though he could not decide which of them was 
 the more demented. Then he began to laugh — 
 an ironical unbelieving sort of snigger. 
 
 " Give it up, hay ! " he cried. " Aw'm loike as 
 if Aw seed thi." 
 
 And then, taking his breath for a moment, 
 and eyeing the road-mender slyly over, he shook 
 his head in a waggish sort of way, saying, as 
 he did so — 
 
 " Hay, Liger, tha'rt an owd brid tew ! " 
 
 "Aw see nowt else fur it," sighed Lige, 
 ignoring Sam's chaffing tone, and evidently 
 very miserable. 
 
 Sam whisked round in a manner expressive 
 at once of impatience and intolerance of con- 
 tradiction. 
 
 " Dunna meyther, mon. Wot's thine's thine, 
 isna it?" 
 
 "Aw tell thi it isna moine: it's hers; an' 
 Aw'm robbin' th' woman, an' nowt else." 
 
 There was an exclamation from Jabe at his 
 bench, and petulantly flinging down his tools, 
 he came and joined the others at the fire, and
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 187 
 
 for the next hour the whole question was 
 threshed out again. 
 
 Sam was incredulous, then angry and abusive, 
 and finally he settled down into dogged, uncon- 
 vincible opposition, declaring again and again 
 that Lige's proposed surrender of his " fortin " 
 was " fair flyin' i' th' face o' Providence." 
 
 Jabe said comparatively little. The crisis 
 was beyond him. He longed with all his heart 
 to find some way of dealing with the matter 
 less drastic than the extreme step of surrender- 
 ing the whole property. But all his efforts so 
 far had been vain, and so he listened to Sam 
 much more carefully than usual, in the hope 
 that he might be able to suggest something 
 that would relieve the situation. 
 
 And Sam, when once he had become con- 
 vinced that Lige was serious, certainly was 
 ingenious in his suggestions, though Jabe was 
 shocked to find how little scruple he seemed to 
 have about the spirit of the moral law. 
 
 To every one of Sam's ideas, however, Lige 
 opposed the same relentless answer, and Jabe 
 never acknowledged truth more reluctantly than 
 he did on this occasion, when his conscience 
 pulled one way and his interest in his friend 
 the other. 
 
 Presently the company began to assemble 
 for the evening, and it turned out to be, perhaps, 
 the longest night ever spent round the Clog 
 Shop fire.
 
 i88 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Everything was dull and flat ; so much so, in 
 fact, that the more casual of the attenders moved 
 homewards very early, and by nine o'clock Jabe 
 and Lige, Long Ben and Sam, had the ingle- 
 nook to themselves. 
 
 To Jabe the situation was fast becoming 
 unbearable. He marvelled at and secretly 
 gloried in Lige's uncompromising attitude; but 
 he felt somehow that the actual performance of 
 this act of sacrifice was intolerable to him. He 
 was distressed, also, at the effect the struggle 
 was having upon his old friend. He looked 
 aged and haggard. The old wrinkles on his 
 face seemed suddenly to have been reinforced 
 by a number of new ones, whilst the veins on 
 his forehead stood out in alarming prominence. 
 
 Under these circumstances he felt that Lige 
 ought to be taken care of by somebody. He 
 had not been really home all the day, although 
 he had started half a dozen times. He had 
 eaten nothing, and if he went home to a cold 
 house, and then supperless to bed, the con- 
 sequences might be serious. 
 
 Jabe waited, therefore, until Ben had drawn 
 the old road - mender into conversation, and 
 then, taking Sam aside, he instructed him to go 
 and spend the night with " th' owd lad," and 
 any other nights possible whilst Lige remained 
 in this disturbed condition. 
 
 When Sam, who fell into the scheme some- 
 what reluctantly, had coaxed Lige to go, Jabe
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 189 
 
 and Ben leaned forward on their seats, with 
 elbows on knees and arm-propped chins, dis- 
 cussing with an earnestness that was almost 
 grim the crisis that had just arisen. When 
 Jabe described the doggedness of Lige's 
 adherence to his own view of the case, and the 
 immovability of his purpose to carry out what 
 he felt to be right, the two looked at each 
 other with shining eyes which expressed a sort 
 of holy delight in their old friend that no 
 possible circumstance would have compelled 
 them to acknowledge in words. 
 
 " Aw wuish we'd ne'er yerd of his plaguey 
 fortin," said Jabe at length, with a perplexed 
 sigh. 
 
 " Ay," was Ben's response. " If he'd ne'er a 
 hed it he'd ne'er a missed it. But it's hard 
 wark givin' up aw his little plans an' schames." 
 
 " Ay ; an' he'll ha' ta keep on workin' tew," 
 sighed Jabe, 
 
 There was a long silence. The fire fell 
 together, and they both turned abstractedly to 
 look at it. Some internal commotion seemed 
 to be going on in Ben, and at last, standing up 
 and shaking his fist at Jabe as if he were Lige's 
 cruel oppressor, he cried, with a sudden fierce 
 gush of tears — 
 
 " He'll no' wark noa mooar, fortin or noa 
 fortin." 
 
 Jabe sat glowering into the red fire with a 
 look which was an emphatic endorsement of
 
 190 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Ben's declaration. Ben stooped for a clog-chip 
 and relighted his pipe, and then he said— 
 
 " It'll be hard wark givin' up his new haase 
 an' aw th' things he wur goin' ta dew." 
 
 " Hay, mon," answered the Clogger, " it's no' 
 that he's botherin' abaat. It's th' Communion 
 plate. lie thinks mooar o' that nor aw th' 
 t'other put together." 
 
 " Aw believe thi, lad," murmured Ben, after 
 musing on the information for a minute. 
 
 Another long silence ensued, and after a while 
 Jabe, who was unusually subdued for him, 
 knitted his brows, and looking up at his friend, 
 asked — 
 
 " Well, is ther' noiijt we con dew? " 
 
 " We met get th' lav/yer's opinion abaat it," 
 said Ben tentatively. 
 
 " Neaw ! neaw ! yo' known wheer yo' begin 
 M'i' them chaps, but yo' niver known wheer yo' 
 stop." 
 
 " Well," sighed Ben presently, " Aw con 
 think o' nowt else." 
 
 "Neaw," said Jabe disappointedly, "that's 
 loike thee. Thaa con think fast enough if it's 
 ony lumber tha'rt up tew. Bud thaa con think 
 o' nowt when tha'rt wanted." 
 
 Ben as a rule took no heed to his friend's 
 railings, but to-night, chafing under a sense 
 of powerlessness, he answered somewhat 
 sharply — 
 
 " Well, thee think o' summat then ? "
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 191 
 
 " Ay," snarled the Cloggcr, " me ageean. A 
 bonny lot o' numyeds yo'd be baat me." 
 
 Ben sighed again, slowly knocked the ash out 
 of his pipe, and said, as he rose to go — 
 
 "Theer's nobbut wun thing left as Aw con see." 
 
 "Wot's that?" asked Jabe, subdued again by 
 Ben's grave tone. 
 
 " Th' owd Beuk says as ' Unto the righteous 
 there ariseth light in the darkness,' an' we'en 
 getten ta wait till it does," and with another 
 sigh Ben sauntered off home. 
 
 The clogging business suffered during the 
 next three days. Jabe found it simply impos- 
 sible to give his mind to his work. To make 
 matters worse, Lige, after two or three attempts, 
 had given up the idea of working until some 
 settlement was arrived at, and wandered in and 
 out of the Clog Shop all day long, alternately 
 anathematising a fate that compelled him to 
 make so momentous a decision, and praying 
 under his breath for Divine guidance. 
 
 Sam Speck, in his character as Lige's keeper, 
 scarcely ever left him, and kept up also a persis- 
 tent assault on the position Lige had taken up 
 on the question of his inheritance. To Sam 
 that position was simply ridiculous. If the 
 money was properly and legally left to him, 
 what right had he to bother any further about 
 it ? And as for Lige's notion that Jane Ann, 
 the leech-woman, was the rightful owner, Sam 
 simply laughed at it.
 
 192 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Whey, mon ! t'oan hawf th' brass i' th' 
 country 'ud ha' ta swop hons if thot wor th' 
 way o' doin' it. Ha' some sense, mon ! Tha'rt 
 goin' dateliss." 
 
 As for Lige, it was simply pitiable to see him. 
 He forgot his half-weekly shave. His face wore 
 a worried, almost haunted look, and his eyes 
 were faded and watery in the morning, and 
 bright and restless in the evening. Every few 
 hours the arguments/;'^ and con were rehearsed 
 again by himself and some one or other of those 
 in the secret, but always with the same result, 
 and the Clogger grew peevish under the con- 
 tinued strain. 
 
 Every night since the discovery of Lige's 
 dilemma, the four who knew of it remained 
 behind after the others had gone, and went 
 over the whole question again from beginning 
 to end, but with a disheartening lack of definite 
 result. 
 
 " Aw'll tell thi wot it is," cried Sam Speck, at 
 the close of one of his many attacks upon Lige's 
 position, " it's nowt else but a judgment on her. 
 Hoo turned up her nooase at thi, an' wo'dn't ha' 
 thi at ony price. Well, hoo's cut her oan throttle 
 — an' sarve her reet." 
 
 This certainly was a new idea, and Jabe and 
 Ben were inclined to see something in it ; but 
 Lige only shook his head and groaned — 
 
 " Hoo's his dowter, an' wotiver hoo does conna 
 mak' her onybody else's dowter." And with a
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 193 
 
 face of deepening gloom he bent over the fire 
 as if he were cold. 
 
 But the idea had set Long Ben thinking, and 
 after a more or less sleepless night he was at the 
 Clog Shop before Jabe had finished his breakfast, 
 with at any rate a gleam of light in his mind. 
 
 Now Jabe had felt from the beginning that if 
 ever a solution of the difficulty was reached it 
 would have to come from Ben, and so he sat up 
 in his arm-chair in the parlour and set his loose 
 leg a-going in eager anticipation the moment he 
 set his eyes on the carpenter. 
 
 " Aw think wee'st ha' rain," began Ben, tr}ing 
 to look easy, and glancing carelessly through the 
 parlour window. 
 
 " Ler it rain ! " exclaimed Jabe impatiently. 
 " Wot dust want ? " 
 
 *' Naa, Aw wur nobbut wondering whether we 
 met square this thing " — and Ben put his hands 
 behind him and turned his back to the fire. 
 
 " Goa on ! " rasped out Jabe, scarcely able to 
 contain himself. " Lige 'ull be here in a jiffy." 
 
 Ben glanced out of the window again, looked 
 demurely round the room, and then said — 
 
 "Thaa knows Jane Ann, dust na?" 
 
 " Ay ! wot bi that ? " and the Clogger looked 
 as though he would have liked to drag the 
 slowly flowing words out of Ben's hesitating 
 mouth. 
 
 " Is hoo a dacent woman, dust think ? " was 
 Ben's next venture. 
 
 i3
 
 194 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Ay ! hoo's reet enuff. Goa on, mon. Wot 
 art dreivin' at ? " and Jabe's short leg was riding 
 up and down with frantic excitement. 
 
 Ben looked round the house again, rolled 
 his carpenter's apron round his waist, and 
 proceeded — 
 
 " He's promised no' ta speik abaat it fur a 
 wik, hasna he ? " 
 
 " Well, well ! " and Jabe had to seize hold of 
 the chair-arms to keep down his irritation at 
 Ben's deliberateness. 
 
 "If hoo could be getten ta hev him afoor th' 
 wik'a aat "— 
 
 Jabe jumped to his feet with a shout, and 
 giving Ben a push which nearly caused him to 
 sit down on the parlour fire, he cried — 
 
 " By gum, tha's getten it, lad ! " 
 
 Then he stood back, and was evidently 
 thinking rapidly. 
 
 " Howd on ! " he cried suddenly, raising his 
 hand as if he were signalling. " Hoo'd happen 
 throw him o'er when hoo geet howd o' th' brass." 
 
 " Wot ! When hoo knowed wot he'd done 
 fur her? Beside, we met happen guard ageean 
 that." 
 
 "Haa?" 
 
 " By axin' her if hoo'd owt ageean him but his 
 pawverty." 
 
 " An' wot then ? " 
 
 " Well, if hoo hadna, we met tell her as he's 
 better off nor he uset be."
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 195 
 
 The Clogger eyed Ben over with an eager, 
 gloating sort of look, and then, slapping 
 him on the shoulder, he broke through the 
 principles of a lifetime by giving expression to 
 feelings of unfeigned and proud admiration of 
 his friend — 
 
 " Ben thaa licks Owd Scratch fur schamin' — 
 thaa does, for sure." 
 
 But, though this was Ben's plan in outline, 
 there were details wherein he saw possible 
 difficulties, and so, sitting down, he and Jabe 
 went over them one by one, enlarging and 
 perfecting the scheme. 
 
 " When mun we start ? " asked Ben at 
 last. 
 
 "The sewner the better," was the emphatic 
 reply. 
 
 "Then tha'd better pike off ta-day." 
 
 " Me ! me goa ! Wot th' ferrups art talkin' 
 abaat, Ben ? " 
 
 " Well, thaa knows her, an' Aw dunno." 
 
 " Bud Aw'm an owd bachelor. Aw know 
 nowt abaat women, an' Aw dunno want t' dew 
 nother. Tha'rt maddlet, mon." 
 
 But Ben stuck to his point, and it soon began 
 to be clear that there was no other way out of 
 the difficulty. Jabe at first refused peremptorily. 
 He stormed. He called Ben all the usual names 
 of opprobrium, and invented several new ones 
 for the occasion. Lige's fortune might go to 
 Hanover for him. And he got angrier and
 
 196 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 angrier as the ine\'itableness of Ben's suggestion 
 became clearer to him. 
 
 Ben, relying on his old friend's strong attach- 
 ment to Lige, and his general willingness to help 
 anyone in need, held quietly to his point, and 
 at last, after the longest and toughest struggle 
 these two old gladiators ever had together, Ben 
 departed, leaving Jabe vowing more vociferously 
 than ever that he would not go a yard, but 
 feeling certain all the same that he would go. 
 
 And sure enough early in the afternoon of 
 that same day the trees and hedges along the 
 lanes to the Halfpenny Gate beheld the fierce 
 woman-hating old Clogger limping doggedly 
 along on an errand of love, and he who never 
 courted fair woman for himself was actually 
 going a-wooing for another. 
 
 The details of that memorable interview have 
 never been fully divulged by either of the parties 
 who shared it, but sufficient is known for the 
 purposes of this story. 
 
 Jane Ann received Jabe quite effusively, 
 and, though they were but slightly acquainted, 
 insisted on his having tea with her. Jabe per- 
 sistently declared his inability to stay, as was 
 the proper thing to do in the Clough, and 
 several times tried to bring round the conversa- 
 tion to the subject of his visit. But Lige seemed 
 so unimportant a person to the leech-woman in 
 comparison with her present guest that she could 
 not be induced to talk about him, and was
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 197 
 
 demonstrative enough in her attentions to make 
 the Clogger feel uneasy and suspicious. When 
 tea-time came Jabe had not even mentioned his 
 real business, and so was compelled, in spite of 
 himself, to accept Jane Ann's most pressing 
 invitation, and he sat at the table in a state 
 of nervous apprehension lest someone should 
 suddenly open the door and find him in this 
 most compromising position. 
 
 Towards the end of the meal he managed to 
 introduce Abram Howarth's name, and dis- 
 covered that his hostess knew all about the 
 matter. She seemed strangely unconcerned 
 about it, Jabe thought, and even then he could 
 obtain no clue as to her feelings about poor Lige. 
 
 What the Clogger suffered in the interest of 
 his friend that day will never be known, but 
 presently, excited and afraid for himself, and 
 anxious to get the interview over, but dodged 
 and eluded by Jane Ann at every turn, he 
 eventually grew desperate and blurted out the 
 whole truth, and threw himself and his friend 
 on the lady's mercy. 
 
 The leech-keeper suddenly became very quiet 
 and hurried into the back - yard — to feed the 
 hens, she said ; but really to conceal very 
 genuine emotion and to collect her thoughts. 
 
 When she came back her manner towards 
 the Clogger had undergone a decided change, 
 and she raised no objection to his proposed 
 departure.
 
 igS BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Jabe was not quite satisfied, for though the 
 lady now seemed wilHng, and almost eager, to 
 see Lige, she would give no promise as to how 
 she would treat him, and absolutely refused to 
 bind herself in any way. At the same time, as 
 Jabe seemed so anxious, she allowed him to 
 conclude that the road-mender would not suffer 
 by being left in her hands. 
 
 The expedition was not wholly satisfactory, 
 Jabe mused as he went home. And Long Ben's 
 mode of receiving his account of it tended to 
 confirm this impression. But there was nothing 
 for it now but to go on with the scheme, and 
 the next question was how they were to deal 
 with Lige, 
 
 This proved by no means an easy problem, 
 but at last they decided that, whilst concealing 
 Jabe's visit from him, they would persuade him 
 to go and see Jane Ann first instead of the 
 lawyer, and they would for his own sake 
 encourage him to act as soon as the week's 
 grace was up. 
 
 Lige was surprised and suspicious when that 
 very evening they put on an air of reluctant 
 resignation as if already accepting the inevitable, 
 and he began to feel very lonely as he found 
 them disposed to push him on in his resolution 
 instead of trying to dissuade him as heretofore. 
 For some time he held out resolutely against 
 going to see Jane Ann at all, and declared he 
 would hand everything over to the lawyer, and
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 199 
 
 " ha' dun wi' it." But eventually the dexterously 
 managed pressure of his friends prevailed, and 
 the course they recommended was decided 
 upon. 
 
 Two days yet remained of the terrible week, 
 and the way Lige seemed to be suffering as 
 the time drew nearer made Jabe and Ben feel 
 very guilty, whilst at the same time it gave en- 
 couragement to Sam to think that his arguments 
 were prevailing. Of course, Sam knew nothing 
 of Jabe's visit to the Halfpenny Gate, and Jabe 
 and the carpenter found his ignorance very 
 useful to their scheme. 
 
 All morning on the day after the expiration 
 of the week, Lige sat groaning and sighing over 
 the Clog Shop fire, wishing he had never been 
 born, and denouncing the departed Abram as 
 if he had done him some deadly injury. 
 
 He seemed to grow more settled towards 
 noon, and having dined at the Clog Shop, he 
 hurriedly started off home, and half an hour 
 afterwards, carefully dressed, and wearing once 
 more Jonas's " blacks," he made his way on his 
 fateful errand. 
 
 He went very slowly, and stopped and talked 
 to himself and prayed in the quiet lanes, but 
 at length he dragged his reluctant legs to the 
 cottage of his lady-love, and knocked and 
 entered without waiting for permission — 
 
 " Well, haa arta, wench? " he asked in a low 
 sad voice that failed to conceal his agitation.
 
 200 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Jane Ann was ironing, and glancing carelessly 
 up, she answered — 
 
 *' Aw'm reet eniiff." 
 
 Lige was trembling now, but Jane Ann didn't 
 appear to notice. Neither did she ask him to 
 sit down, and so from sheer weakness he moved 
 towards a chair, and dropping into it, faltered 
 faintly — 
 
 " Aw want ta speik ta thi, Jane Ann." 
 
 " Then dunna ! Aw've towd thi afoor, an' Aw 
 meean it." 
 
 Lige's pale face became ashy as he answered — 
 
 " It's no' that, wench, this toime. Aw've cum 
 ta speik abaat thi fayther." 
 
 " Tha's no need ; tha con tell me nowt good 
 abaat him." 
 
 " Thaa knows as he's deead, Aw reacon ? " 
 
 " Ay ! " and the tone of the admission sounded 
 as if she were reluctant to admit even so much. 
 
 " Dust know whoa he left his brass tew ? " 
 
 " Ay," and Jane Ann went to change her flat- 
 iron at the fire, showing by her whole manner 
 that she wished him to understand that the 
 subject was distasteful to her. 
 
 But Lige was in it now, and intended to make 
 an end. 
 
 " Well, it's no' moine, thaa knows ; it's thoine," 
 he said, leaning forward on his stick. 
 
 " It isna moine, an' Aw shanna hev it." 
 
 " Bud thaa vtun hev it ; thaa'll ha ta hev it," 
 and Lige became rnomentarily quite aggressive.
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 201 
 
 " Shall Aw ? " And Jane Ann tossed her head 
 defiantly, and began to rub her flat-iron on the 
 smoothing blanket. 
 
 There was silence for a moment, for Lige 
 was quite nonplussed. At last he said coax- 
 ingly— 
 
 " Jane Ann, it isna my fawt as he left it ta me. 
 Aw knew nowt abaat it till efther he wor 
 deead." 
 
 " Whoa said it wur ? " 
 
 "Well, tak' it then, will ta?" 
 
 Then Jane Ann wheeled round, and, looking 
 Lige steadily in the face, said, holding the iron 
 away from her — 
 
 " Liger Howarth, Aw'st never tak' a hawpenny 
 on it if thaa talks till t' Judgment Day. Soa 
 theer ! " 
 
 Lige was amazed and distressed, and all the 
 more so as he felt the old Adam in him rejoic- 
 ing over Jane Ann's obstinacy. He sat looking 
 at the flat-irons in the bars of the fire for some 
 time, and then he asked, hesitantly, as if 
 ashamed of the suggestion — 
 
 " Well, wilt tak' th' hawf on it ! " 
 
 " Aw tell thi. Aw winna tak' a fardin." 
 
 There was another uncomfortable pause, and 
 then Lige ventured — 
 
 " Wilt tak' them tew haases at th' bottom o' 
 th' gate yond' ? " 
 
 Then Jane Ann seemed really angry, and 
 replied —
 
 202 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Aw've towd thi wunce fer aw, Aw'st ha' 
 nozvt, an' if thaa conna be said tha'd better be 
 shuntin'." 
 
 Lige was abashed. He sat for a long time 
 trying to think of something else to propose, 
 but as nothing came, he rose reluctantly to 
 leave, saying, as he did so — 
 
 " Well, Aw'll be goin'. But Aw'll gi' thi a 
 fortnit ta think abaat it, and then Aw'll come 
 ageean." 
 
 " If thaa gi'es me twenty ye'r, it 'ull mak' noa 
 difference," and Jane Ann rubbed resolutely at 
 her ironing-cloth. 
 
 Lige moved slowly to the door, unwilling to 
 go, but afraid to stay. He was just raising the 
 latch and clearing his throat for a last word, 
 when Jane Ann, with a face hot with ironing, 
 and perhaps also with something else, bent low 
 over her work, and said more softly than she 
 had yet spoken — ■ 
 
 " Liger." 
 
 "Wot?" 
 
 " Ther's wun thing Aw'll hev, if tha'll ax me." 
 
 Lige brightened up and turned back into the 
 house again, and asked eagerly — 
 
 " Wot's that ? " 
 
 " T/icer 
 
 There is really no more to be told. Lige the 
 road-mender had never had any attractions for 
 Jane x\nn, and Lige, her father's heir and her
 
 LIGE'S LEGACY 203 
 
 supplanter, had become an object of aversion. 
 But the Lige whose simple honesty and rare 
 conscientiousness had prompted him to make so 
 great a sacrifice for justice and righteousness' 
 sake became suddenly very noble in her eyes, 
 and the road-mender went back to Beckside an 
 accepted suitor and a very happy man. And 
 the first business of Jane Ann after she came to 
 Beckside to live was to order the new Com- 
 munion plate for the chapel.
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 I 
 
 A Father's Honour 
 
 205
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 I 
 
 A Father's Honour 
 
 " Puzzles ! they arr that ! They're Chinese 
 puzzles, women arr ! It teuk th' ' owd lad ' ta 
 foind th' fost on 'em aat, an' it tak's him ta dew 
 it yet. Some on 'em's simple an' some on 'em's 
 sawft, bud ther aw tremenjous deep." 
 
 The speaker, of course, was Jabe. Raising 
 himself up to straighten his back as he stood 
 with braces hung down at his side, over the 
 clog-shaping bench, and using the last half- 
 finished sole to emphasise his observations, he 
 was addressing himself apparently to vacancy, 
 for the rest of the company were sitting deep 
 into the ingle, and were invisible behind clouds 
 of smoke. 
 
 " Wot does thaa know abaat women ? " came 
 from somewhere behind the smoke - cloud, in 
 tones very like those of the erstwhile road- 
 mender and recent bridegroom, Lige. 
 
 207
 
 2o8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Aw know wun on 'em as hez made a sawft 
 yed sawfter lattly." 
 
 There was a sort of sputter of laughter in 
 the nook, and the voice of Sam Speck cried 
 deh'ghtedly — 
 
 " Goo' lad, Jabe ! By gum — that's a nobbier 
 fur thee, Liger ! " 
 
 But Lige was very easy-going in these days 
 of his prosperity, and was, moreover, interested 
 in the topic which had provoked the dogger's 
 tirade, and so he brought the conversation back 
 by observing — 
 
 " Thaa happen feart her, Jabe. Women 
 wants handlin' gently, thaa knows." 
 
 " Feart her ? Aw will fear her if hoo comes 
 ony of her stuck-up ways wi' me. Aw tell thi 
 they'r clemmin' i' th' haase, and hoo comes an' 
 slaps her brass daan i' th' frunt o' me as if hoo 
 hed a milliond." 
 
 " Ay, an' they sticken ta they'r oan pew, an' 
 pay fur it. An' they spend as mitch brass i' 
 donning up th' owd chap's grave as 'ud keep wun 
 on 'em — partly w^ot," added Sam Speck sternly. 
 
 After a short pause, Lige observed reflec- 
 tively — 
 
 " Well, if ther' is a grave i' that yard as owt ta 
 be kept noice it's owd Abil's ; it 'ull be a lung 
 toime afoor ther's anuther loike him i' Beckside," 
 
 But Jabe was out of all patience, and all the 
 more so as he was somewhat uneasy in his own 
 mind.
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 209 
 
 " Ha' some sense, will yo' ! " he cried. 
 "Tummy Nibble towd me hissel' as aw th' 
 butcher's meit they iver han is tewpennorth o' 
 liver at th' wik end, an' a pennorth o' cratchins 
 o' Wednesdays. An' wun Setterday when he 
 awsed tagive Jinny a bit o' briskit as he couldna 
 sell, hoo threw it back i' th' cart an' welly 
 slapped him i' th' face." 
 
 " It's pride ! sinful pride, an' nowt else," cried 
 Sam with stern indignant emphasis, and Jabe 
 thus encouraged, proceeded — 
 
 " Dun yo' know haa it is as they cum'n ta th' 
 chapel wun at wunce naa ? It's 'cause they'n 
 nobbut wun bonnet between 'em. An' aar Judy 
 says as that's bin awtered an' awtered till it 
 winna awter. Isn't that pride?" 
 
 And Lige sighed and shook his head, as a 
 sign that he would be very reluctant indeed to 
 believe the charge. And the Clogger, though 
 he sat down in the circle of smoke and lighted 
 his pipe, still showed where his thoughts were 
 by the uneasy motions of his short leg. 
 
 The subjects of this conversation were two 
 middle-aged females named Horrocks, who 
 v/ere generally known as " Rhoda an' Jinny 
 Abil" — Abel being the name of their father, 
 now long deceased. 
 
 They lived in what had once been the prettiest 
 cottage in Beckside. It stood in the midst of 
 a rather large garden just beyond the school- 
 house, going up the " broo " to Knob Top. 
 
 14
 
 2IO BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Unlike most of the other cottages in the hamlet 
 it was built of stone, and the windows, where 
 climbing plants did not prevent, were rimmed 
 round with a framework of whitewash. The 
 ground rose at the back and screened the 
 cottage from the east wind, and for many years 
 the neatly-kept little house, with its gay and 
 fruitful garden, had been a grateful sight to 
 any one entering Beckside from that end of the 
 village. 
 
 Old Abel, who built and owned it, was a 
 mason by trade, and one of the mainstays of 
 the chapel in the days when Jabe and his friends 
 were young. He was a man of high character 
 and gentle, kindly ways. His goodness seemed 
 to shine out of his ruddy face, and he was 
 known as one of the most upright and honour- 
 able men in the community. He was the 
 associate and coadjutor of Jabe's father, John 
 Longworth, and when he died he was so sincerely 
 respected and beloved that the chapel people 
 had by special contributions erected what was 
 even in Jabe's later days by far the most 
 pretentious tombstone in the graveyard. And 
 when old John Longworth, declaring that he 
 couldn't think of a text of Scripture, or a verse 
 of a hymn, good enough to express the virtues 
 of their departed friend, finally wrote out in 
 his painful roundhand for the stone-carver's 
 instruction, " Mark the perfect man and behold 
 the upright," everybody felt that John had been
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 211 
 
 specially guided and had made the only adequate 
 selection. 
 
 Old Abel left three children, a son and two 
 daughters, and these, though quiet retiring 
 people, followed in their father's footsteps, at any 
 rate so far as a deep attachment to the chapel 
 and an interest in its welfare were concerned. 
 
 The son, Abel the younger, was the mill 
 joiner, and Rhoda and Jinny were weavers, and 
 so they were regarded as pretty well off, though 
 now and again the extra sharp ones of the village 
 pretended to have noticed odd and unexpected 
 signs of pinching and even poverty about them. 
 
 Then young Abel died, and the girls were left 
 behind. They owned the house they lived in, 
 and had three looms each at the mill, and so must 
 still have a good income ; but notwithstanding 
 all this they did not seem really comfortable, 
 and every now and again little incidents occurred 
 which made people wonder whether " Abil 
 wenches" were really as well off as they were 
 supposed to be, and as they always took pains 
 to appear to be. 
 
 The one weakness of these two plain women 
 was their quiet pride in their father's memory, 
 together with the manifestation of that pride in 
 fastidious and unremitting care for his grave. 
 The stone was always kept scrupulously clean, 
 and the little flower-bed before it always showed 
 that careful and loving hands constantly tended 
 it.
 
 213 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Now, it was a moot point in Beckside theology 
 whether it was quite right to show excessive 
 interest, especially of the mournful kind, in 
 graves, there being a sort of feeling that people 
 ought to rejoice at the translation of their friends, 
 especially if they were uncommonly good. And 
 so the conduct of " Abil wenches " attracted 
 more notice than it ordinarily would have done, 
 and it was feared that they were giving way to 
 the " sorrow of the world." 
 
 It was noticed also that the two women had 
 aged very rapidly since their brother's death, 
 and the most diligent care on their part did not 
 conceal the fact that they were getting poorer. 
 Rhoda, the eldest, had begun to look quite old, 
 and there were already indications of a pre- 
 mature breaking up of her constitution. At 
 the same time she became shyer, and gradually 
 changed from a calm, self-possessed Lancashire 
 lass into a fretful, jaded, worn - looking and 
 suspicious woman. 
 
 Then she became unable to work at the mill, 
 and the burden of maintenance fell entirely on 
 the younger and less energetic Jinny. 
 
 And now, as their poverty had an explainable 
 cause, and could no longer be matter of doubt, 
 tentative offers of help were made, but in every 
 case they were hotly and almost fiercely re- 
 jected, as if, in fact, poverty were a tei'rible 
 crime which they would rather die than confess 
 to.
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 213 
 
 The niglit before the one on which our story 
 opens, Jabe had been holding his class. 
 
 It was ticket night, and the leader, when 
 receiving the class moneys after the minister's 
 departure, left Jinny's lying on the table, and 
 detained Jinny herself in conversation until the 
 rest were gone, when he picked up the shilling 
 and was quietly slipping it into her hands again. 
 But she would not understand, and when the 
 Clogger was compelled — not too gently, it is to 
 be feared — to explain that he couldn't allow 
 her to pay, as he felt sure she couldn't afford, 
 Jinny flushed, and then turning white with fear 
 and resentment, cried, eyeing Jabe over with 
 keen suspicion as she did so — 
 
 " Haa does thaa know we're poor ? Whoas 
 towd thi ? " 
 
 " Know ? Aw con see, woman, sure// ! " cried 
 Jabe, with rising choler. 
 
 " See ! Ay, tha'rt allis pooakin' thi nooase 
 inta sumbry's business. But let me tell thi, Abil 
 Horrocks allis held his yed up i' th' wold, an' 
 his dowters arr na goin fur t' disgrace his name. 
 Moind that, naa ! " 
 
 Jabe's feelings were divided between anger at 
 the woman's obstinacy and pride, and a strong 
 secret sympathy with her feelings about her 
 father, and the respect that should be shown 
 to his memory, and so he said, half apolo- 
 getically — 
 
 " Well, wench. Aw meant noa harm,"
 
 214 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Well, then, ler uz alooan, an' tell t'others 
 ta ler uz alooan. We'en getten ta tak' cur o' 
 my fayther's name, and we'll dew it — ay, dew 
 it if wc dee dewing it " — and then Jinny burst 
 into tears and hurried out of the vestry. 
 
 But she did not go home. She walked up 
 the road a little way, and turned into a by- 
 lane, where she slowly dried her tears. Then 
 when she thought Jabe would be gone she came 
 back to the chapel. It was a cloudy night, with 
 an intermittent moon, and putting her clog toe 
 into a hole in the wall. Jinny, as if she were 
 accustomed to enter the graveyard that wa}', 
 climbed quickly over, and was soon kneeling 
 by her father's tombstone. 
 
 She looked up for the moon, but it was 
 hidden for a moment behind a cloud, and she 
 knelt there in an attitude of prayer, but though 
 her lips moved rapidly, not a sound came from 
 them. Presently she became more excited, and 
 at length, turning her face up passionately to 
 the clouds, she cried, clenching her hands with 
 intense resolution — 
 
 "They shanna know, fayther; they shall 
 niver know." 
 
 At that moment the moon came into sight 
 for a moment, and, as its pale, cold beams fell 
 on the stone. Jinny lifted her head and looked 
 at it. Then she got up and dusted the 
 already spotless surface just where it was 
 lettered, much as another woman would ha\e
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 215 
 
 cleaned an expensive piece of pottery or a 
 large mirror. And then she put one arm over 
 the top of it, and stooping down, she read the 
 precious lines once more, and then, still hang- 
 ing over it, she fondly kissed the letters, and, 
 turning her white face up till the moonlight 
 fell across it and made it almost ghastly in its 
 paleness, she cried, with a sudden burst of 
 tears — 
 
 " It's theer yet, fayther ! An' they shanna 
 tak' it off. They can murther uz if they'n a 
 moind, but they shanna tak' it off. Thaa i^'itr 
 parfect ; thaa zviir hupright ; let clubs an' 
 accaant beuks say wod they'n a moind." 
 
 When Jinny reached home that night, she 
 found her sister huddling over a very small 
 slack fire, and trying to get some little heat 
 into her thin shrunken limbs. 
 
 Rhoda did not move when her sister entered, 
 but when Jinny had drawn her chair beside her, 
 and told the story of her interview with Jabe, 
 she broke out — 
 
 " We'est ne'er dew it, wench ! Summat's bin 
 tellin' me as we shanna for mony a wik. 
 We'en scratted an' we'en clemm't ta dew it, an' 
 we shanna dew it efther aw." 
 
 Jinny muttered something, 
 
 " Nobbut ten paand ! It met as wecl be a 
 hunderd, wench. We'est ne'er raise it. <\w'm 
 deein' ; Aw know Aw'm deein' ; an' then my 
 fayther's stooan 'ull be a lyin' stooan for iver
 
 2i6 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 an' iver." And poor Rhoda beat on the sanded 
 floor with her feet, and rocked herself in an 
 agony of tearless grief. 
 
 After a while she stopped suddenly, a look 
 of resolution that was almost fierce came into 
 her eyes, and, after wrestling with deep feeling 
 for a moment or two more, she jumped to her 
 feet, and, clenching her fist and stamping em- 
 phatically on the floor, she cried — 
 
 " Bud we mun, Jinny, we mun ! Aw conna 
 dee till it's done. We'll sell ivery stick we han 
 bud we'll dew it." And then clasping her 
 hands together, and holding them over her 
 head, whilst a look of tender melting love came 
 into her eyes, she cried — 
 
 " An' then, fayther, we'est see yo' — ' wheer 
 the wicked cease fro' troublin', an' the weary 
 are at rest.' An' then yo'll know as we tewk 
 cur o' yo'r name. An' that 'ull be heaven fur 
 uz. Ay ! that 'ull be heaven for uz." 
 
 But next day, and many days after, poor 
 Rhoda kept her bed. At first Jinny was able 
 to leave her and go to the mill, but presently 
 she grew feebler, and at the same time so 
 excitable, that it was not safe to leave her, 
 and Jinny had to stay at home and nurse her. 
 Neighbours came to offer help, but they were 
 suspiciously and almost rudely repulsed by 
 Jinny, in a perfect fever of fear and apprehen- 
 sion ; and day after day she watched over her 
 dying sister, and lived no one knew how.
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 II 
 
 Owd Croppy's Errand 
 
 217
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 II 
 
 Owd Croppy's Errand 
 
 Several anxious consultations were held at 
 the Clog Shop about the Horrockses, but the 
 only result of them was that Dr. Walmsley 
 went to the cottage, and insisted, almost by 
 force, on seeing the invalid. And the doctor 
 reported that though there was no particular 
 evidence of disease in the patient, and no 
 very clear sign of poverty in the house, yet 
 the woman was evidently dying, and dying 
 of weakness and trouble. 
 
 Jabe was nearly beside himself, and made all 
 sorts of wild suggestions for compelling the 
 Horrockses to open their minds. At last one 
 night, as Long Ben was going home from the 
 usual rendezvous, he saw a woman, with a 
 shawl over her head, standing hesitantly at the 
 garden gate of his house. 
 
 " Is that thee, Ben ? " she asked timidly, as 
 he came up.
 
 220 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Ay ; is that thee, Jinny ? " 
 
 " Ay ! Ben, aar Rhoda wants thi." 
 
 "Naa?" 
 
 " Ay, naa. An' fur marcy's sake come." 
 
 Ben closed the gate and went along with 
 poor Jinny. They walked rapidly but silently 
 towards Abel's cottage. 
 
 " Is hoo wur ? " asked the carpenter, as they 
 neared the Beck bridge. 
 
 " Wur ? Ay, hoo's deein', Ben," and Jinny 
 burst into a cry that was somehow too terrible 
 for tears. 
 
 When they reached the cottage, they found 
 Rhoda sitting up in bed, and evidently waiting 
 for them. Her face was haggard and pale, but 
 her eyes were bright with excitement. 
 
 Ben sometimes did a little furniture broker- 
 ing, and so, as he began to inquire after 
 Rhoda's health, she impatiently waved the 
 subject aside, as if it were too trivial, and 
 began — 
 
 " Ben, Aw want thi ta tell me haa mitch 
 theas bits o' things o' aars are woth." 
 
 Ben looked round, seemed to hesitate for a 
 moment, and then answered — 
 
 " Aw durn't know ; wot art botherin' abaat ? 
 Wot dust want to sell 'em fur ? " 
 
 But Jinny, stepping behind, pulled his coat 
 tail, and so Ben, guessing that he was required 
 to humour the patient, went on with a sudden 
 assumption of business shrewdness —
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 221 
 
 " Haa mitch dust want fur 'em ? " 
 
 Ben expected that Rhoda would begin to 
 " haggle " with him, but instead of that she 
 leaned forward with eager eyes and lips dry 
 from excitement, and cried, " Ten paand. 
 They're woth ten paand, arna they?" 
 
 Now, seeing that the dying woman really 
 wanted to sell, Ben would probably have 
 agreed if the sum demanded had been double 
 what it was, and so he answered promptly — 
 
 " Ay, Aw'll gi' thi ten paand an' chonce it." 
 
 Rhoda put out a thin blue-lined hand, and 
 cried, " Tak' 'em then, an' gi' me th' brass." 
 
 " Brass ? Aw hevna getten it wi' me. Dust 
 want it naa ? " 
 
 " Naa ! Ay, naa ! Aw'm deein', mon. Naa ! 
 Naa ! ! " And the excited woman wrung her 
 hands in intense impatience. 
 
 " Aw con fotch it thi, if tha's a moind," said 
 Ben hesitatingly, and knowing full well that he 
 hadn't half the sum, and couldn't think where 
 to procure it at that late hour. 
 
 " Fotch it, then. Fotch it, an' be slippy, mon ! 
 Or else Aw'st be deead afoor it comes." And 
 with a gleam of eager joy that did not ap- 
 pear to Ben to be quite sane, she went on — 
 "Just let me get a seet on it an' howd it in 
 my bond fur wun little minute, an' then, an* 
 then— Aw'll — 
 
 ' Clap my glad wings and sooar away, 
 An' mingle with the blaze of day.'"
 
 222 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And flinging up her arms and falling back on 
 her pillow, she lay there panting and exhausted. 
 
 Jinny made attempts to soothe her sister. 
 Tucking the bedclothes around her and shaking 
 up the pillow, and wetting her lips with cold tea, 
 she crooned over her in an anxious endeavour 
 to calm the sufferer's agitation. 
 
 After a few minutes of apparent unconscious- 
 ness, the sick one suddenly opened her eyes, 
 and sat bolt upright again. Seeing Ben still 
 standing there, she put out her open hand as if 
 to receive something, and cried — 
 
 " Hast getten it, lad ? Give it me ; give it 
 me!" 
 
 '' Tak' thi toime, woman ; he's gooin' fur it 
 naa ! " said Jinny coaxingly. 
 
 " Toime ! Aw've toime fur nowt. Fotch it, 
 Ben ; fur marcy's sake fotch it. Aw'st dee ba'at 
 knowing it's paid if thaa doesna." 
 
 And then, checking herself suddenly, she 
 gazed at Ben with the searching, suspicious look 
 he had so often seen in these women's faces of 
 late years. 
 
 On Rhoda promising to be still and quiet, 
 Ben and Jinny went downstairs. 
 
 " Does hoo oft wandther loike that ? " asked 
 Ben softly as they reached the lower room. 
 
 " Wandther ? Hoo's no' wandthering, Ben ; " 
 and then, in an agony of fear and anxiety too 
 stern and imperious to conceal, she cried — 
 
 " We mun hev' it, mon ; chuse wheer it comes
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 223 
 
 fro'. Hoo conna dee till hoo knows it's reet, or 
 if hoo dees ba'at knowing ther'll be a ghooast i' 
 Beckside, fur hoo'll niver rest in her grave." 
 
 The look of tortured fear on poor Jinny's face 
 went to Ben's heart, and in an impulse of 
 wonder and pity he cried, though he would have 
 given his ears to recall the word when it had 
 gone — 
 
 "Wot dun yo' want it fur? " 
 
 Jinny stopped her wailing, and shot into Ben's 
 face another of those terrified, suspicious looks 
 he had grown familiar with, and after studying 
 his face for a moment or two, and appearing to 
 be relieved by what she saw, she at length 
 said — 
 
 " Aw conna tell thi, Ben ; Aw wouldna tell 
 thi ta save my soul. An' if iver thaa knaws, 
 tha'll wuish thaa hadna known. But thaa shanna 
 know ! Noabry shall iver know." And for a 
 moment Jinny looked as fierce as her sister. 
 
 Ben was puzzled and distressed, but realising 
 both the uselessness and the unkindness of 
 pressing the matter, he hastened away to find 
 the money. 
 
 After crossing the bridge in profound agitation, 
 he remembered Lige's many offers of help if he 
 ever needed it, and turned in by the Brickcroft 
 corner, and stopped at the road-mender's door. 
 He raised the latch, but the door would not 
 open ; and he then remembered that Lige and 
 his wife had gone to Duxbury about the sale of
 
 224 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 a piece of property, and had announced their 
 intention of staying the week-end. 
 
 Where must he go next ? He had not more 
 than three pounds in his pocket. He shrank 
 from exciting the dangerous curiosity of Sam 
 Speck about the matter, and so, after many a 
 misgiving, he turned up the "broo" toward the 
 Clog Shop, preparing to make a clean breast of 
 everything, and induce the Clogger to join him 
 in his strange speculation. 
 
 Jabe's face as Ben told his story was a study. 
 First it was mockingly scornful. Then, when 
 the money question was raised, it became a 
 picture of unconvincible obstinacy. Then, as 
 Ben detailed the painful agitation of the women, 
 Jabe's eyes began to blink rapidly, and he blew 
 his nose with most unnecessary violence, and 
 finally every other expression was swallowed up 
 in one of open-eyed and wondering curiosity, as 
 Ben described with significant nods and winks 
 the strange enigmatical hints which had dropped 
 from the women, and the air of mystery with 
 which the whole question seemed enveloped. 
 
 And this provided Ben with a way of escape, 
 for Jabe's chronic anger with Ben for his 
 " sawftniss," and his indignation with the women 
 for their pride, were both forgotten in the 
 presence of an object which excited at once 
 genuine anxiety and keen, wondering curiosity. 
 
 But, unfortunately, Jabe had very little ready 
 money in the house — less than two pounds, in
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 225 
 
 fact — having that day paid a heavy bill for 
 " owler " wood. 
 
 Ben seemed inclined to rest awhile and dis- 
 cuss the situation, but Jabe positively could not 
 sit still, and in a few moments they were on their 
 way to Nathan's. 
 
 Nathan had gone to the Clog Shop, Tatty 
 said, but as they had not met him, it was certain 
 he must have made a call somewhere. When 
 they reached the smithy yard gate, and were 
 standing and discussing where Nathan would 
 most likely be, they heard a panting gasp behind 
 them, and the agitated voice of " Jinny Abil " 
 cried — 
 
 "Hast getten it, Ben?" And then, as if 
 unable to control her feelings, she stood back, 
 and, wringing her hands, cried — 
 
 " Oh, dunna say thaa hasna ! for God's sake, 
 dunna say that ! " 
 
 " Dunna, wench ; dunna," said Ben soothingly. 
 " Aw'm gooin' efther it naa." 
 
 " Then thaa hasna getten it ! Oh, efther aw 
 theeas ye'rs, efther aw theeas ye'rs," and Jinny 
 wrung her hands again in helpless, piteous 
 despair. 
 
 She continued clasping her hands and twisting 
 her body as if in intense pain, until Jabe could 
 bear it no longer, and so, hastily drawing Ben 
 aside, he whispered — 
 
 "Tak' her whoam. Aw'll goa and get it 
 somewheer." 
 
 15
 
 226 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Ben turned round to persuade Jinny to go 
 home with him, but he was saved the trouble, 
 for all at once the distressed woman burst out — 
 
 " Hoo's gooin' ! Hoo's gooin'? Hoo'll be 
 deein' bi hersel'," and with another piteous wail 
 she darted off down the hill towards home. 
 
 Ben, after another hasty word with his friend, 
 followed closely behind. 
 
 " Mun Aw tell her Aw've getten th' brass ? " 
 he asked as they went along. 
 
 " Bud thaa hasna." 
 
 " Neaw, bud Aw shall hev' i' th' morn." 
 
 " Morn ! " was the almost fierce reply ; " hoo 
 wants ta see it. See it afore hoo dees. Hoo 
 could dee an' be dun wi' it, then. Ay ! an' soa 
 could Aw, an' be thankful." 
 
 They had just reached the bridge. The 
 waters of the Beck were brawling over the stones 
 underneath, the stone parapet was bathed in 
 moonlight, and not a soul was in sight. 
 
 "Jinny," said Ben, stopping suddenly, and 
 speaking with great impressiveness, " wot's aw 
 this meean ? Ther's summat wrung ; naa wot 
 is it? Owd Abil's childer doesna need ta want 
 nowt i' Beckside sure/z." 
 
 But at the mention of her father's name 
 Jinny gave another bitter cry, and started once 
 more for home. 
 
 When she reached the cottage, Jinny passed 
 right upstairs, but Ben remained standing before 
 the expiring fire, and waiting a summons to the
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 227 
 
 bed-chamber, listening one moment to the 
 sounds above, and the next to everything out- 
 side that suggested the coming of the Clogger. 
 
 Presently he was relieved to hear someone 
 approaching the house, but the next moment 
 his pleasure was dashed by the discovery that 
 it was not the irregular click-clack of a clog, but 
 the duller thud of a boot that he heard, which 
 made him aware that the new-comer could not 
 be the Clogger. 
 
 A peculiar, sharp, single tap on the door 
 announced the presence of " Owd Croppy," the 
 Brogden and Duxbury rent and debt collector. 
 Whatever could he be doing in Beckside at this 
 time of night ? 
 
 He stared when Ben opened the door, and 
 looked impatient and disappointed, as if he had 
 something to communicate which was very good 
 and which he longed to utter. 
 
 " Hello ! " he cried ; " wheer arr they ? 
 Wheer's Rhoda ? Wheer's Jinny ? " 
 
 A sudden seriousness came over the old 
 collector as he learned the facts of the case 
 and the condition of poor Rhoda. 
 
 " Well," he said, after ruminating with pursed 
 lips for a moment or two, and following Ben's 
 example by speaking under his breath, " Aw 
 mun see 'em ! Aw've getten some news as 
 winna keep ! " 
 
 " Howd on," replied Ben, holding up his hands 
 deprecatingly and still speaking in a whisper,
 
 228 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " it met kill 'em, or " — and then he paused, and 
 as all the stray words and unintentional hints 
 the women had dropped came back to him all 
 at once, he continued — " or else cure 'em. By 
 th' mon. Croppy, th' Lord's sent thee here ta- 
 neet." 
 
 Croppy wasn't at all sure of this. His face 
 seemed to say that he was much more ac- 
 customed to commissions from an opposite 
 source, but before he could answer Jinny came 
 hurrying downstairs. 
 
 She uttered a despairing cry as she saw the 
 debt collector. 
 
 " Wot ! Awready ! Thaa met a letten her 
 dee fost. Wun on us 'ud a getten aat on it at 
 ony rate. But thaa shall be paid. Aw'll pay thi 
 if Aw hev ta sell th' last rag o' my back. An' 
 then Aw'll goa to th' bastile an' dee. Ay, an' 
 be rare an' fain ta dee tew ! " 
 
 "Jinny," cried Croppy, ashamed for once of 
 his profession, " Aw hev'na come abaat brass. 
 Aw've come wi' some queer news. Good news 
 tew. Aw darr say ! " 
 
 Just then the high ringing voice of the 
 feverish sufferer upstairs was heard. " Jin ! 
 ler him come up ; ler him come up, Jin." 
 
 Jinny stepped to the bottom of the stairs and 
 told her sister who the visitor was. 
 
 " Dust think Aw conna yer whoa it is? He 
 met a waited till Aw wur cowd, bud ler him 
 come up."
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 229 
 
 Jinny beckoned Croppy to follow her, and 
 they both ascended to the bedroom. 
 
 At this moment Jabe gently raised the latch. 
 Ben could see at a glance that he had not been 
 successful. He motioned the Clogger to be 
 silent, and then drew him out of the house again 
 and expressed his conviction that they wouldn't 
 be needed any more that night. But Jabe was 
 hard to convince. His curiosity was so thor- 
 oughly aroused that it took all Ben's arguments 
 and persuasions to induce him to leave the 
 sisters until the morning; and but for the fact 
 that he had no money to offer them, he would 
 undoubtedly have held out. It was late, however; 
 Croppy's business was evidently very important, 
 and might take a long time, and so, with a 
 painful and snappish reluctance, Jabe at last 
 consented, and the two, after shouting " Gooid- 
 neet ! " up the stairs, and getting a reassuring 
 " Gooid-neet " in Jinny's own voice in reply, 
 made their way across the bridge and up the 
 " broo."
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 III 
 
 Joy Cometh in the Morning 
 
 231
 
 The Memory of the Just 
 III 
 
 Joy Cometh in the Morning 
 
 Next morning Jabe had Ben up earlier than 
 usual, and the two made their way to the 
 Horrockses. To their surprise, the curtains 
 were drawn up and the door was open. 
 
 Jabe's nervousness made him bashful, and so 
 he stopped on the threshold and knocked. 
 
 Hurried feet came noisily downstairs, and as 
 soon as she saw them. Jinny, who had a dis- 
 hevelled and up-all-night appearance, cried out, 
 whilst tears of evident joy welled up into her 
 eyes — 
 
 " Hay, chaps, come in ; bless yo', come in. 
 Aw feel as if it wur th' resurrection mornin', an' 
 Aw'd just come aat of a grave. Bless th' Lord ! 
 Bless th' Lord ! " 
 
 And, as Jabe and Ben looked at each other 
 in astonishment, Jinny's cry was feebly repeated 
 upstairs — " Bless th' Lord ! Bless th' Lord ! "
 
 234 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Wotiver's ta dew, wench ? " cried Jabe, in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Ta dew ? Ther's iverything ta dew. 
 Summer i' th' middle of winter; midsummer in 
 Noveniber. It's heaven upo' 'arth ; heaven upo 
 'arth ! " 
 
 " Whey, wotiver's happened ? " and Ben lifted 
 his eyebrows and looked at Jabe, and muttered 
 under his breath, " Th' poor crayter's gooan 
 off it." 
 
 " Ler me tell 'em, Jin — ler me tell 'em. Bless 
 th' Lord ! " came feebly downstairs. 
 
 " Yo'll ha' ta goa upst'irs, chaps," said Jinny, 
 actually smiling. " Hoo allis hed her own 
 rooad, yo' known." 
 
 In obedience, therefore, to these directions, 
 the Clogger and his friend made their way to 
 the bedroom, where they found Rhoda still in 
 bed, but looking like a transfigured being. 
 
 " Sit yo' daan," she said, as they entered, and 
 then she looked from one to the other with 
 eager, beaming eyes, and burst out, " Bless th' 
 Lord ! Bless th' Lord ! " 
 
 When they were seated, and were looking hard 
 at the sick woman in whom so strange a trans- 
 formation had taken place, she suddenly turned 
 in her bed, and looking at Jabe, demanded — - 
 
 " Jabe, wot wur it as yo' put upo' my fay ther's 
 stooan ? " 
 
 " ' Mark the perfect man and behold the 
 upright,' " said Jabe.
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 235 
 
 " An' wor it trew ? Wor he parfect an' 
 upright ? Wor he ? " 
 
 "He wur that," answered Ben fervently, 
 
 " A foine seet better nor ony 'at's abaat naa," 
 added Jabe as a chncher. 
 
 " Bless th' Lord ! He wur ! He wur ! " 
 And the two women looked at each other, 
 apparently gloating over the words they had 
 heard. 
 
 Then Rhoda's face suddenly darkened again. 
 She seemed to be collecting her powers for a 
 ■difficult task, and at last she said impressively — 
 
 " Jabe, iver sin th' wik efther it wur put up 
 we'en bin feart it wur a lyin' stooan." 
 
 "Naay, y^zc ne'er wur," cried Jinny, through 
 glistening tears. 
 
 " Whey, it xvur thee," cried Rhoda in astonish- 
 ment. " Aw knew betther aw th' toime." 
 
 " Naay, it wur thee ; no' me." 
 
 But just then Ben chimed in: "If iver a 
 grave - stooan i' this wold towd trew, it wur 
 that." 
 
 " Trew ? It wur na hawf trew eneuff," added 
 Jabe emphatically. 
 
 Rhoda paused in a listening attitude, as if she 
 were hearing enthralling music, and presently 
 she went on — 
 
 " Th' wik efther th' stooan were put up, a 
 felley cum fro' Duxbury an' said as th' club 
 beuks as my faythcr used t' have wur wrung, 
 an' hed bin fur mony a munth."
 
 236 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Wrung ? " cried both men at once, in amazed 
 indignation. 
 
 " Ay, wrung ! An' if Aw hedna bin i' th' 
 haase aar Abil 'ud a felled him. But Aw 
 sattled Abil a bit, an' then th' chap axed him 
 fur t' goa ta Duxbury an' see th' beuks fur 
 hissel'." 
 
 There was a sound of long, laborious breath 
 being drawn, and Jabe and his friend looked at 
 each other in fierce indignation. 
 
 " Well," Rhoda proceeded, " he went, an' when 
 he coom back he wur loike a deead un. He sat 
 daan afoor th' feire an' started a whackering and 
 skriking an' couldna tell us a thing. Well, at 
 th' lung last, he said as it were trew, an' mi 
 fayther 'ud bin takkin' th' club brass for ye'rs." 
 
 Rhoda paused for a moment to give her 
 hearers time to realise the awful communication 
 she had made. Then she wiped her perspiring 
 face with a spotted cotton handkerchief, and, 
 leaning towards the Clogger, whose short leg 
 had already kicked the bed-stock several times, 
 she went on — 
 
 " Sithi, Jabe ; Aw could ha' torn aar Abil to 
 pieces when he said that." And then, after a 
 moment's silence, " Poor lad, it kilt him." 
 
 " Well, yo' known," she proceeded, after a 
 moment's mournful thought, " we couldna believe 
 it of aar fayther, but Abil stuck aat as it wur 
 trew, an' we wur that feart on it gettin' aat 
 we darrna speik abaat it ta awmbry. So we
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 237 
 
 morgiged th' haase an' paid it, — welly sixty 
 paand, — an' th' felley said as he'd keep it 
 quiet." 
 
 "Thaa lumpyed ! whey didn't thaa cum an' 
 tell me?" interrupted Jabe in stern indignation. 
 
 " Aw know'd it wur wrung aw th' toime, an' 
 Aw wouldna hev' agreed ta pay it, chuse wot 
 they'd said, ony fur that text upo' th' grave- 
 stooan," answered Rhoda. And then, after 
 another pause, she proceeded — 
 
 " Well, six munths efther, th' felley coom an' 
 said as they'd fun' some mooar aat. Hay, Ben, 
 Aw thowt as mi hert 'ud a bust. We prayed 
 till we couldna pray, an' we skriked till we wur 
 blind. An' aw th' toime foak were talkin' abaat 
 th' grave-stooan, an' sayin' haa trew it wur. 
 An' we knowed as it wur aarsel's, but we couldna 
 prove it, an' we wur feart aat of aar wits on it 
 bein' fun' aat. 
 
 " Well, we borrad th' second lot o' brass oft 
 Owd Croppy at a big interest, an' wot wi' th' 
 debt an' wot wi' th' interest we'en bin payin' it 
 off iver sin'. It kilt aar Abil, an' it wur killin' 
 me. Th' last ten paand we couldna raise ; we'en 
 bin try in' for welly tew ye'r. An' Croppy 
 saused uz ivery toime he coom. An' we wur 
 that feart of owt cumin' aat, as we darrna leuk 
 poor. An' then Aw geet badly, an' Aw wur 
 feart o' deein' afoor it wur paid. It ud aw a 
 come aat if Aw hed, happen. But Aw couldna 
 keep up. Aw felt Aw wur dun fur. An' Aw
 
 238 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 wur welly crazy maddlet ta get th' brass, an' 
 save my fayther's name." 
 
 Then she paused for a moment, out of breath. 
 Both Ben and Jinny began to exhort her to rest 
 a little, but she stopped them with an impatient 
 gesture and proceeded — 
 
 " At last aar Jin an' me made it up as hoo 
 should goa i' lodgings, or else to th' bastile, when 
 Aw wur deead, an' sell aw^ th' furniture ta pay 
 wi'. Aw couldna dee, yo' known, till mi fayther's 
 name wur saved — an' it is saved naa. Bless th' 
 Lord ! " 
 
 " Thi fayther's name ne'er wanted savin'," 
 jerked out Jabe ; " bud goa on an' finish this 
 nominny." 
 
 " Well," resumed Rhoda, " when Aw know'd 
 Aw wur struck wi' death. Aw felt Aw couldna 
 goa till Aw know'd as it wur aw reet an' safe. 
 An' soa Aw sent fur thee, Ben, last neet. Thaa 
 allis hed a koind hert, lad. An' thaa cum, an' 
 went away ta fetch th' brass, and when Aw wur 
 waitin' upst'irs fur thi ta cum back, Aw yerd 
 Owd Croppy daanst'irs, and then he cum up. 
 An' hay, Aw wur feart ! But he said as he'd 
 some news fur me. Aw didn't want ony news, 
 but Aw darrna say so. Soa he cum an' he stood 
 jist where tha'rt sittin' naa, Ben, an' he leuked 
 at me, an' he said, ' Amos Bobby wur kilt this 
 mornin'.' 
 
 " Amos wur my fayther's pardner i' th' club 
 stewardship, thaa knows. Well, Aw thowt as
 
 THE MEMORY OF THE JUST 239 
 
 they'd fun' summat else aat, an' Aw skriked aat, 
 but Croppy said as when he wur deein' Amos 
 sent fur him an' towd him he'd summat ta get 
 off his soul afore he faced his Maker. An' wot 
 dun yo' think it wur ? " 
 
 Both men were watching Rhoda with a stern 
 eagerness that was painful, but neither spoke. 
 
 " He towd Croppy as lied awtered th' beuks 
 ta pay his dog-runnin' debts, an' then when my 
 fayther deead suddin he couldna foind th' brass, 
 an' soa he leet it goa upo' th' deead mon. An' 
 soa, yo' see, his name's saved at last. Hay, Aw 
 know'd it couldna be mi fayther ; bud we'en 
 saved his name ! We'en saved his name ! And 
 naa Aw con goa ta me grave contented." 
 
 But she didn't. \\. first it seemed very doubt- 
 ful whether she would rally, but the vindication 
 of her father's honour, and the removal of her 
 own intolerable burden, seemed to give her new 
 life, and in a short time she was going to the 
 mill again, looking younger and stronger than 
 she had done for years.
 
 Isaac's Angel 
 I 
 
 Love and Music 
 
 i6
 
 Isaac's Angel 
 I 
 
 Love and Music 
 
 Isaac, the dogger's apprentice, sat at his work 
 before the back window of the shop one bahny 
 day in the early summer. He had opened the 
 window, thereby letting in the scent of wall- 
 flowers and the hum of bees. 
 
 Jabe was out, for it was the first working day 
 after the Whitsuntide holidays, and the Clogger, 
 though he would certainly not have admitted 
 the fact, was feeling the effects of the holiday 
 and the school treat, and so, being in no humour 
 for work, had gone down to Long Ben's to " sattle 
 up " about the previous day's proceedings. 
 
 And Isaac seemed to have caught some of 
 the restlessness of his master, and was getting 
 on very slowly with his work. 
 
 He held a clog-top between his knees, and 
 was making a show of stitching it, but when 
 he had drawn the tatching ends through their 
 
 2-13
 
 244 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 holes, and stretched out his arms to pull them 
 tight, he kept them thus extended, and sat 
 gazing out of the window with a far-away, 
 melancholy, and dispirited look on his face. 
 
 Then as he sat gazing out of the window at 
 the tree-tops on the ridge of the Clough, he 
 would every now and again heave a heavy 
 sigh, then start suddenly as he discovered that 
 he was idling, and hurriedly resume his stitch- 
 ing, casting as he did so furtive glances towards 
 the inglenook, where Sam Speck sat enjoying 
 a meditative pipe. 
 
 Presently Isaac's sighs became quite de- 
 monstrative, and were evidently somewhat 
 artificially produced for the purpose of attracting 
 attention. If so, they entirely failed, for Sam, 
 half-asleep, was not in the least affected by 
 them. A few minutes later Sam began to 
 nod, which seemed to quite disturb poor Isaac. 
 Then his pipe dropped out of his mouth, and that 
 awoke him, and as he was picking it up, Isaac, 
 to prevent him dozing off again, broke out — 
 
 " Sam ! " 
 
 " Wot ? " 
 
 " Aw've yerd bet-ter hanthums tin that we 
 had o' Sunday neet." 
 
 " Wot's thaa know abaat hanthums ? " 
 
 Isaac seemed not to hear this rough answer, 
 and proceeded — 
 
 " Aw loiked it weel enuff i' perts, bud Aw 
 thowt as th' solo spilet it, thaa knows."
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 245 
 
 " Spilet it, thaa bermyed, whey it wur the 
 best pert on it." 
 
 Isaac seemed very uncomfortable, and the 
 face that gazed out through the window looked 
 quite wretched. 
 
 "Ay! Aw darr say it's reet enuff if it 'ud bin 
 sung owt like" — and Isaac stole a long sly 
 look at Sam. 
 
 " Sung ! whey, it wur sung grand ! He's a 
 throit like a throstle, Joe hes." 
 
 A spasm of pain shot across Isaac's homely 
 countenance, as if Sam's words were so many 
 twists of a thumbscrew or other dreadful 
 instrument of torture. For a moment or two 
 he seemed unable to speak. His lips tightened, 
 and then suddenly relaxed and quivered, and 
 as he gazed abstractedly at the distant tree- 
 tops once more, something very like tears swam 
 into his eyes. 
 
 Presently, with a manifest effort, he asked — 
 
 "Did — did — t'other singers loike th' solo?" 
 
 "Aw reacon thaa meeans did Lizer Tatlock 
 loike it? Well, hoo did. Hoo gan him some 
 peppermint humbugs when it wur o'er." 
 
 Isaac went very red about the neck and ears. 
 His eyes filled again, and looking with a sort of 
 desperation through his tears at the distant trees 
 once more, he said slowly and faltcringly, and 
 in a tone which even the most credulous would 
 have found it difficult to believe in — 
 
 " Aw cur nowt abaat Lizer Tatlock."
 
 246 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Sam laughed — a great, ironical, unbelieving 
 laugh. " Neaw," he cried, " an' tha'rt no' 
 jealous o' Joe, arta ? Oh neaw ! sartinly not ! " 
 and Sam grinned again in relish of his own 
 rough irony. 
 
 There was another pause, during which Isaac 
 was evidently trying to get himself well in 
 hand again, but in spite of all he could do 
 a great tear splashed down upon his hand as 
 he was boring a hole in the clog - top with 
 his awl. 
 
 Now Sam saw this tear, and it was the first 
 indication he had had of the depth of Isaac's 
 feelings on the matter of their conversation, 
 and so, after watching the apprentice medita- 
 tively for some time, he changed his tone and 
 said, with an assumption of stern impatience — 
 
 "Whey doesn't thaa shape, mon, an' get th' 
 wench if thaa wants her? Hoo conna be so 
 bad ta pleeas when hoo tak's up wi' Joe." 
 
 Isaac took another long stare through the 
 window, and then, speaking like a man who 
 was absorbingly preoccupied, he murmured 
 dejectedly — 
 
 " Joe's bet-ter leukin' nor me, an' mooar of a 
 scholard — beside his singin' ; " and then, after 
 a pondering, dreamy pause, " Hay ! Lizer does 
 loike music." 
 
 " Hoo wouldna be Jonas's wench if hoo 
 didna," cried Sam ; " but whey doesn't thaa 
 start o' singin' ? "
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 247 
 
 And Isaac, with a despondent shake of the 
 head and a voice of profound melancholy, 
 replied — 
 
 " Aw conna sing a nooat, Sam." 
 
 Sam sat up, as if to think more rapidly, 
 seemed about to speak once or twice, and then 
 checked himself; but at length he suggested, 
 though not very confidently — 
 
 " Start o' playin' then, mon. Thaa met ger 
 i' th' band, thaa knows, an' that 'ud fotch her 
 off her pierch." 
 
 An eager light came into Isaac's eyes. This 
 was evidently what he would like most of all, 
 but a moment later he shook his head sadly 
 and said — 
 
 " Aw'm sitchen a numyed, thaa knows, Sam ; 
 besides, whoa'd larn me ? " 
 
 Sam evidently agreed with Isaac as to his 
 lack of power to acquire knowledge, but he also 
 sympathised with him in his trouble, and so he 
 said at last — 
 
 " Well, if thaa loikes fur t' try th' voiolin, 
 Aw'll larn thi." 
 
 Isaac accepted this with great eagerness and 
 many clumsy expressions of gratitude. And in 
 response to it Sam offered to get him a fiddle 
 and allow him to pay for it as he was able, 
 which, as Isaac was poor and had a sick 
 mother, was a great relief to him. 
 
 Then there came the question as to where 
 the practising should take place. Sam was so
 
 248 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 dubious about his pupil that he insisted on the 
 lessons being given secretly. They couldn't be 
 given at his house, for his tyrant housekeeper 
 and sister would not, he knew, tolerate them 
 for an hour. 
 
 After much discussion, a disused hencote at 
 the bottom of the yard wherein Isaac's mother's 
 cottage stood, and which belonged to the cottage, 
 was decided upon, and it was arranged that 
 lessons should commence at once. 
 
 Many and many a time did poor Sam repent 
 of his bargain during the next few months, for 
 Isaac fully justified his own account of himself, 
 and proved a most trying pupil. 
 
 In course of time, however, some little pro- 
 gress was made, and almost every night during 
 the following winter any person going down 
 Shaving Lane would have heard certain peculiar 
 sounds coming from the outbuildings abutting 
 upon the lane, and if they had peeped, as more 
 than one curious Becksider did, through one of 
 the many holes in the wall, they would have seen 
 a tall, long-necked youth, with very short hair, 
 mending a broken string, or resining a fiddle-bow, 
 or producing, with fearful facial contortions and 
 grotesque protrusions of tongue, certain weird, 
 indescribable sounds, which every now and 
 again very distantly suggested a tune. 
 
 As the springtime came round again the 
 practices became more frequent, and Sam was 
 sometimes on the point of giving his pupil up
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 249 
 
 altogether, and sometimes prophesied that he 
 would " mak' a fiddler efther aw." 
 
 One day, however, Sam effected his grand 
 coup. It was the second practice night at the 
 Clog Shop preparatory to the " Sarmons," and 
 things could not be said to be going at all well. 
 The instrumentalists struggled bravely with the 
 new piece of anthem music, but when at last 
 the}^ had got through it, every man finished with 
 that irritated and discouraged feeling so usual 
 in the earlier stages of musical preparation. 
 This was Sam's opportunity. 
 
 " Aw'll tell yo' wot it is, chaps," he cried, 
 straightening himself and brandishing his fiddle- 
 bow to emphasise his argument, " th' fost fiddles 
 isna strung enuff, an' wot's mooar, they ne'er 
 han bin strung enuff sin owd Job gan up." 
 
 " They makken ne}-se [noise] enuff, at ony 
 rate," snarled Jabe from behind his 'cello ; " it's 
 no ne)'se we wanten, it's music." 
 
 " Yo' conna foind fiddlers upo' ivery hedge 
 backin," said Jethro impressively. 
 
 "We met ax fat Joss," suggested Jonas the 
 leader. 
 
 " Wot ! Theer's noa ale-haase fiddler goin' 
 fur t' play i' aar chapil," cried Jabe, with fierce 
 resolution. 
 
 There was a pause, broken by the strumming 
 of strings in process of tuning, and then Sam 
 said as carelessly as he could — 
 
 " We met tak' a young un an' larn him."
 
 250 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Ay," retorted Jabe sarcastically, " we did that 
 when we teuk thee, an' a bonny bargin thaa wur 
 tew." 
 
 But the others, who evidently thought there 
 was something to be said for Sam's suggestion, 
 looked at him as if expecting him to pro- 
 ceed, and when he did not, Jonas, as leader, 
 demanded — 
 
 " Aat wi' it, Sam ; wot art dreivin' at? " 
 
 Sam became all at once deeply engrossed 
 in tightening his fiddle-bow, and as he bent 
 his head over it he said, in a low, hesitant 
 tone — 
 
 " Isaac con fiddle a bit." 
 
 " That wastril ! " cried Jabe, rising to his feet 
 in supreme indignation; and in a moment every- 
 body was speaking at once, and all agreed in 
 denouncing the idea as absurd in the extreme. 
 But Sam stuck to his point, and after a long 
 strenuous argument, v\hich sadly interfered with 
 the practice, reluctant and tentative consent was 
 given for Isaac to come to the next practice 
 and try. 
 
 When Sam late that night communicated the 
 intelligence to his pupil in the hencote, Isaac 
 was overjoyed. 
 
 "Hay, lad," he cried, "when hoo sees me 
 stonnin' i' th' band at th' Sarmons, an' fiddlin' 
 away loike — loike — winkin' — wot'll hoo think on 
 n\Q then ? " 
 
 And Sam, though with certain misgivings,
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 251 
 
 catching for the moment some of Isaac's en- 
 thusiasm, replied — 
 
 " Joe Gullett's dun fur ony minit." 
 
 It was a trying ordeal through which poor 
 Isaac passed next day. All day long Jabe was 
 lecturing him on the difficulties of the task he 
 was undertaking, and the utter impossibility of 
 his being able to play creditably alongside such 
 accomplished exponents of the art as the mem- 
 bers of the band. And when the evening 
 came, and eight sternly-critical judges listened 
 to Isaac's initiatory performance with heads 
 held sideways and nodding marl^s of time, the 
 verdict, tliough not definite and final, was any- 
 thing but hopeful. At any rate, when the 
 practice was over, and Isaac, after waiting for 
 the verdict for a long time, at last rose to go, 
 he asked, with his hand on the latch — " Mun 
 Aw cum ageean ? " 
 
 Nobody seemed inclined to answer, until 
 Jonas, who as leader was expected to reply, 
 answered somewhat surlily — 
 
 " Thaa con pleeas thisel'." 
 
 Of course Isaac continued to attend, but his 
 case was never regarded as a hopeful one. Just 
 when he ought to have been showing most 
 improvement he became somehow most stupid, 
 and his inclusion in the band for the great 
 " Sarmons " day was an unsettled question 
 to the very last. In fact, had it not been 
 that Long Ben and Jethro discovered that
 
 252 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Isaac did not dream of being left out, but was 
 looking forward to his first public appearance 
 with an eagerness they could not bear to dis- 
 appoint, it is absolutely certain that Jabe would 
 have had his way and the young dogger would 
 have been summarily dismissed. 
 
 A week before the great event Jonas under- 
 took to give Isaac a little private instruction, to 
 prevent a fiasco at the last, and the only point 
 in this arrangement that struck Isaac was that 
 he had become a pupil of " Lizer's " father, and 
 might even meet her in the house when he went 
 for his lessons. 
 
 But the young lady was somehow always 
 absent, and eventually he began to regard this 
 as a fortunate circumstance, as his appearance 
 in the band on the great Sunday would be all 
 the greater surprise to her. 
 
 There was one drawback, however, to the 
 completeness of Isaac's joy on the occasion. It 
 was an unwritten law in Beckside that every- 
 body with any pretence to respectability — at 
 any rate every young person — must appear on 
 Whit Sunday in new clothes, and had Isaac been 
 able to add this additional glory to the triumphs 
 of the day, his cup would have been about full. 
 But his mother's illness had made that impos- 
 sible. He would have to wear his old suit on 
 this greatest occasion of his life, and just on the 
 top of one knee his trousers had had to be 
 darned, and the darn would be shockingly con-
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 253 
 
 spicuoiis, and he would sit where everybody 
 could see him. But even this great difficulty 
 did not daunt him. He got a new "dicky," a 
 new bright blue necktie, with white spots in 
 it, and a new billy-cock, and sat up until long 
 after midnight in the hencote going over 
 again and again the pieces to be played on 
 the glorious morrow, finally going to bed 
 to think and dream and do everything except 
 sleep. 
 
 The Sunday proved wonderfully fine, though 
 hot, and a great crowd assembled. 
 
 Very shyly poor Isaac insinuated himself 
 into the vestry appropriated for the use of the 
 band, and turned red and pale and pale and red 
 again as he followed the procession of instru- 
 mentalists into the chapel. 
 
 Isaac was placed at the corner of the Com- 
 munion rail, with Sam Speck at one side of him 
 and Jimmy Juddy at the other. The players 
 had their backs to the congregation, and their 
 faces towards the stage on which sat rows of 
 girls in white. In the bottom row, but on the 
 other side of the pulpit from Isaac, sat Eliza 
 Tatlock, whose dancing black eyes and arch 
 roguish face had entirely bewitched the poor 
 apprentice. 
 
 Having found out exactly where she was, 
 Isaac began to make every possible use of his 
 great opportunity. When he commenced to 
 tune his fiddle, it was done pointedly at her, as
 
 254 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 if the exercise were a tribute to her beauty, 
 rather than a mere musical preliminary. When 
 the hymn was given out, and the band stood up 
 and struck off with the tune, every stroke of 
 Isaac's fiddle-bow which could possibly be made 
 to do so went in Eliza's direction, and in all 
 the succeeding parts of the service Isaac played 
 palpably, and most enthusiastically, at the queen 
 of his heart. Sad to say, though he never took 
 his eyes from her except to look at his notes 
 during the whole service, the hard-hearted 
 beauty never deigned him so much as a single 
 glance, whilst he twice caught her smiling in 
 the direction of Joe Gullett. 
 
 Except for this circumstance, Isaac was per- 
 fectly satisfied with the service, and felt it, 
 therefore, a great compliment when, immediately 
 after dinner, Jonas Tatlock came down to him, 
 and drilled him for a whole hour in his part for 
 the evening service. 
 
 And poor Isaac did not know that this was 
 done to appease the wrath of the Clogger, who 
 was denouncing his apprentice in most violent 
 language, and insisting on his being kept out of 
 the evening's performance. 
 
 But the morning's service was merely a 
 skirmish, and even the afternoon was not 
 regarded by the band as of much importance, 
 as they took but a very secondary part in it. 
 The grand display, of course, was always 
 reserved for night, and as the time drew near
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 255 
 
 Isaac made his way in a high state of nervous 
 perspiration to the band vestry. 
 
 Had he been less preoccupied he might have 
 noticed that his fellow-players all looked at him 
 with cold averted faces, except Sam Speck, who 
 looked so bad that Isaac asked him if he'd got 
 the " toothwarch." 
 
 Presently the Clogger entered the vestry. 
 " Sithi'," he cried, as soon as he caught sight of 
 his apprentice, " it's aither neck or nowt wi' thee 
 ta-neet." If thaa shapes ta-neet loike thaa did 
 this mornin' Aw'll — Aw'll brast thi fiddle fur 
 thee." 
 
 Isaac smiled sheepishly, and tried to imagine 
 how ashamed of himself his master would be 
 when the service was over. 
 
 In a few moments they adjourned to the 
 chapel, and Isaac, glancing up, saw that " Lizer " 
 was there, looking as saucy and wicked as ever, 
 and that Joe Gullett had changed places, and 
 was just at Lizer's feet. 
 
 The great musical event of the day was the 
 anthem of the evening service, and Isaac, turn- 
 ing round for an instant, saw all the musical 
 critics of Brogden, Clough End, Halfpenny 
 Gate, and the neighbourhood, sitting behind 
 him with uncompromising faces. 
 
 At last the anthem was called for, and the 
 band and choir stood up to perform. Just as 
 Isaac was settling his fiddle to his chin he 
 caught sight of Lizer looking straight at him.
 
 256 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 He felt that look right down to his toes. Now 
 for it ! The music commenced, and in a 
 moment or two Isaac was sawing away for 
 dear life, glancing every bar or two towards his 
 lady-love to see how she was taking it. He 
 saw her frown once. Then she blushed, and 
 smiled very strangely. Then she went red 
 again, and then, after biting her lip for a time, 
 she presently laughed outright, and Isaac, ex- 
 cited almost beyond himself, put all he knew 
 into the last grand fortissimo, and sat down, 
 feeling that his work was done and his victory 
 complete. 
 
 But somehow the band was very badly 
 behaved that evening. Even Jabe was mutter- 
 ing and setting his teeth about something all 
 through the sermon, and the rest hung down 
 their heads and scowled ; and when the last 
 hymn came they played as if all life had gone 
 out of them. 
 
 Isaac was surprised and grieved, and made 
 up his mind to admonish his seniors gently when 
 he got into the vestry. He had done his part. 
 What was the matter with all the rest of them ? 
 
 As the congregation dispersed, the band 
 played a selection, and Isaac, in the confidence 
 of a great sense of victory, extemporised a 
 little, putting in several fine grace notes ; and 
 congratulated himself that ever}body was 
 noticing him, as indeed they were. He almost 
 blushed as he discovered going out that all the
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 257 
 
 musical critics in the congregation were looking 
 at him in wonder, and, he doubted not, in envy 
 too. 
 
 Poor Isaac ! scarcely had he got inside the 
 vestry when Jabe, almost purple with wrath, 
 fell furiously upon him. 
 
 " Thee play ! " he cried indignantly. " Ther's 
 as mitch music i' thee as ther' is in a cracked 
 weshing - mug ! Dun ? Tha's spilt the best 
 hanthum we'en iver hed, an' th' collection's daan 
 three paand ; that's wot tha's done ! Pike off 
 whooam, thaa scraping scarrcrow thaa ! " 
 
 And glaring angrily at him, whilst the rest 
 looked on with pained, resentful looks, Jabe 
 pointed to the door, and stood in the middle of 
 the vestry, waiting for him to depart. 
 
 And as if that were not enough, as he was 
 going dejectedly down the " broo " towards 
 home, who should pass him but the laughing, 
 teasing " Lizer," talking with suspicious con- 
 fidence to Joe Gullett. 
 
 17
 
 Isaac's Angel 
 II 
 
 No Place like Home 
 
 269
 
 Isaac's Angel 
 II 
 
 No Place like Home 
 
 Isaac and his mother lived in the last of three 
 irregular little one-storey cottages at the corner 
 of Shaving Lane. He had got within a few 
 steps of home when the teasing " Lizer " and 
 her companion, Joe Gullett, passed him. 
 
 When he saw them thus in company, and 
 heard the young lady's titter, he nearly stopped. 
 A great lump came into his throat, and he 
 struggled vainly to keep back hot, angry tears. 
 Absorbed in watching his rival, he forgot to 
 look where he was going, and a moment later 
 he had stumbled over the remains of an ancient 
 kerbstone, and his fiddle went flying from under 
 his arm and clattering along the road, whilst 
 Isaac himself went sprawling into the ditch. 
 
 He was up again in an instant with a great 
 slit in his trousers, just across the top of the 
 knee where they had been darned. He was 
 
 261
 
 262 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 covered all over with dust, and felt that he had 
 scraped the skin off his shin. But that was 
 nothing to the anger and bitter shame that 
 raged within him as " Lizer " and Joe, just as 
 they were turning the corner of Shaving Lane, 
 looked at him. Concern and sympathy shot 
 into " Lizer's " dark eyes, but at that instant 
 Joe made some remark, which Isaac did not 
 hear, but which set " Lizer " off giggling, and 
 even after they had disappeared round the 
 corner Isaac could hear her rippling laugh. 
 
 Sore, ashamed, and bitterly angry with all 
 the world, Isaac picked up his instrument and 
 walked slowly towards the house, knocking the 
 dust off his clothes as he went, and struggling 
 hard to keep back tears of pain and anger. 
 
 He steadied himself for a moment ere he 
 opened the cottage door, waited until he could 
 command his countenance, and then quietly 
 lifted the latch. 
 
 The cottage was poorly furnished but spot- 
 lessly clean, and on the far side of the fireplace 
 stood an old four-post bedstead carefully hung 
 with pink and white bed-hangings of ancient 
 pattern. Isaac never looked at the bed. He 
 took off his hat and laid it on the edge of an 
 old chest, ready to be taken up into the attic 
 when he retired to rest. Then he carefully put 
 away his fiddle in a little green bag and hung 
 it in the chimney corner nearest the bed. Then 
 he sat down before the fire and made a show of
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 363 
 
 poking it, though the evening was most uncom- 
 fortably warm. In a moment or two he got 
 up, walked to the window, and appeared to be 
 interested in examining a couple of potted 
 plants. 
 
 As he did so, a dismal chirp was heard just 
 above his head, and a young " throstle " in a 
 little cage hanging against the window-jamb 
 began to show signs of recognition and gladness. 
 But even this did not interest him, and instead 
 of giving the expectant bird a responsive whistle, 
 he stood blankly staring at it, as if it had 
 committed some shocking crime, and then 
 abstractedly turned away again and sat down 
 once more by the fire. 
 
 All this time, as Isaac was well aware, a pair 
 of anxious, pain- faded eyes had been watching 
 him from the bed, and as they watched they 
 grew darker and more distressful, and when he 
 finally sat down before the fire, evidently very 
 unhappy, the sad eyes grew softer, a melting 
 light came into them, and many a wistful glance 
 was cast towards him. 
 
 No sign or sound was there beside. Isaac 
 was still in dreamland, and a dark and dreary 
 dreamland it must have been, to judge by his 
 face and the gloomy stillness in which he sat. 
 
 Presently there was a movement in the bed, 
 accompanied by a groan which the sufferer 
 tried hard but vainly to suppress. She now lay 
 on her back gazing earnestly at the joists above
 
 264 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 her head, and after a pause she said in a low, 
 gentle voice — 
 
 " Hay, Aw'm a praad woman ta-day." 
 
 But Isaac neither moved nor spoke, and so 
 after another pause, she went on — 
 
 " Sum women's sons 'as bin i' th' ale-haase an' 
 th' skittle alley an' tossin' an' swurrin' [swearing] 
 aw day, an' moine's bin playin' hanthums at th' 
 annivarsary. Bless th' Lord ! " 
 
 Isaac gave a gasp, and a great gush of tears 
 rose into his eyes, but he never spoke. 
 
 The sufferer on the bed was listening intently, 
 and waiting for him to speak, but as he did not, 
 she began to prepare her next remark ; looking 
 steadily at the joists, and apparently absorbed 
 in conversation with the Great Unseen, she 
 moved her twisted hands and said — 
 
 " Ay, Lord, th' herps of goold an' th' angils' 
 singin' 'ull be varry grand, bud — Aw'd rayther 
 yer aar Isaac playin' i' th' annivarsary." 
 
 And then she added in a soft, apologetic 
 undertone — 
 
 " Yo' mun excuse me, Lord ; Aw'm his 
 muther." 
 
 Isaac was crying now. Not with the hot, 
 hard tears of disappointment and shame, but 
 the soft, gentle overflowings of relief and sym- 
 pathy. He sat for some time undisguisedly 
 wiping his eyes and sighing. Then he resumed 
 his steady stare into the fire, but never a word 
 did he speak.
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 265 
 
 "Aw reacon Aw'st ne'er yer na mooar 
 hanthums till Aw get to the bet-ter land," mur- 
 mured the sufferer on the bed, still apparently- 
 speaking to the Unseen or to herself. 
 
 And now for the first time Isaac turned and 
 glanced towards his mother, but almost immedi- 
 ately resumed his glowering into the fire. 
 
 " Ne'er moind," came from the bed again. 
 "Ther's plenty as hez yerd him play, if Aw 
 hevna. Bud Aw'st be a hangil afoor lung, wi' 
 wings an' noa rheumatiz, an' Aw'st goa ta aw 
 th' Sarmons as aar Isaac plays at." 
 
 And the afflicted one turned over on her side 
 with her face to the wall, and shut her eyes as 
 if in pain. 
 
 At this Isaac turned again and looked towards 
 his mother, and once more resumed his gazing 
 in the fire. Then he looked again with a 
 wistful, anxious look. A long pause followed, 
 and at length the young dogger rose to his 
 feet and reached out his hand for his violin. 
 He tuned it in a slow, absent sort of manner. 
 Then he drew the bow across the strings aim- 
 lessly, and at last, turning his back towards the 
 bed, he began to play, carefully and nervously 
 at first, but soon with confidence and then with 
 abandon, and with an accuracy and skill which 
 would have greatly astonished his tutors and 
 fellow-bandsmen. Finally he finished up with 
 a grand, triumphant flourish. 
 
 During the playing of this anthem Isaac's
 
 266 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 mother did not move, and even when he had 
 finished she gave no sign at all. Isaac stood for 
 a moment expecting her to say something, and 
 when she did not, he grew uneasy, and crept 
 round the foot of the bed, with the fiddle still 
 at his chin, to steal a look at her. Still she 
 neither moved nor spoke. Had she gone to 
 sleep whilst he played ? He stepped nearer, 
 passed the scullery door, stole along the other 
 side of the bed, stooped over and looked 
 down. And there lay a woman with a face 
 worn with long and terrible suffering, but which 
 now shone with a light that was scarcely earthly, 
 whilst the pillow under her cheek was wet with 
 gracious tears. As he bent over her she moved 
 and opened her eyes. Then she smiled. Such 
 a smile ! Isaac had never seen anything like 
 it before. 
 
 " Haa's yo'r pain, muther?" he asked, for the 
 sake of saying something. 
 
 " Fain, lad ? Aw know nowt abaat pain ! 
 Aw'm i' heaven. Hay, Isaac ! Aw've bin i' 
 heaven." 
 
 A great glow of comfort and gladness 
 suddenly gushed into Isaac's heart, and, partly 
 to hide his emotion and partly to continue his 
 mother's pleasure, he perched himself on the 
 edge of the bed and played one of the anni- 
 versary hymns. When that was finished he 
 played another, and then a third, and by this 
 time his mother was sitting up and watching
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 267 
 
 him in the twilight with admiring and grateful 
 eyes. 
 
 When he had finished he walked back to his 
 place by the now dead fire. A great peace was 
 in his heart. He had found a vocation, and 
 even his expulsion from the band began to look 
 a less dreadful thing to him. 
 
 Then he got his mother a little food, and went 
 out and fetched a jug of skimmed milk, and 
 with that in one hand and a piece of oat- 
 cake in the other he sat down at the bedside 
 to talk. 
 
 " Hay, Isaac ; thaa hez capt me ta - neet," 
 began his mother. " Aw ne'er thowt as thaa 
 could play loike that." 
 
 " Aw'll gi' yo' sum mooar when Aw've hed 
 mi supper," said the easily-encouraged fiddler. 
 
 " Nay, lad, tha'rt tired ta-neet." 
 
 " Tired ? Aw cud play aw neet ! " And, 
 putting down his empty milk-basin, he picked 
 up his fiddle, though it was now quite dusk, and 
 said — 
 
 " Naa, muther, what wod yo' loike ? " 
 
 The bedridden woman seemed to hesitate. 
 Then she looked at her son through the gloam- 
 ing, and said — 
 
 "Yo' grand players dunno bother wi' childer's 
 tunes, dun yo'? " 
 
 The subtle flattery of these words was like 
 healing balm to Isaac's sore heart, and he said 
 cheerfully —
 
 268 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Childer's tunes? Ay, wot yo' loike, if Aw 
 know it? " 
 
 "Can thaa play, * Aw want ta be a hangil ' ? 
 When Aw uset t' yer that Aw could fair yer 
 th' angils singin' and see 'em comin' tew 
 me. 
 
 Of course Isaac knew that tune, and so he 
 began to play, whilst his mother fell back on 
 her pillow to listen. When he had got through 
 the simple little melody he commenced again, 
 and then again, and at last, after a particularly 
 loud and flourishing wind up, he dropped upon 
 the bed, crying, — 
 
 " Well, muther, will that dew? " 
 
 By this time it was so dark that he could not 
 see his mother's face, except by going close to 
 her. And as he bent over her he thought she 
 looked almost beautiful, and an impulse came 
 over him to kiss her. But he had never done 
 such a thing in his life that he could remember, 
 and blushed at his own thought. 
 
 Just then his mother moved. 
 
 " Huish ! " she cried in subdued, reverent 
 tones ; " they're theer ! They're theer, Isaac ! " 
 
 And then she closed her eyes again, and 
 sighed, and smiled, and Isaac crept off the bed 
 and stood in the darkness alone. 
 
 Then he slipped off his boots, and was creeping 
 up into his little attic, when a soft voice said, 
 " Isaac ! " 
 
 "Wot?"
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 269 
 
 " Wilta bring th' angils tew me ageean some 
 day?" 
 
 " Ay, muther ; ivery day if yo'n a moind an' if 
 fiddlin' 'ull dew it." 
 
 And with that he climbed his little ladder, 
 and crept into his bed a comforted and even 
 thankful young man. 
 
 Next day was the school treat, and of course 
 a holiday, but Isaac had no heart for the fes- 
 tivities, and shrank timidly from the chaff he 
 knew would be dealt out to him. So he stayed 
 at home. All morning he was " fettlin' up " 
 the little cottage, although it was already 
 spotless, and in the afternoon, whilst the 
 scholars were enjoying themselves in the Fold 
 Farm field, Isaac was playing to his mother. 
 Though the cottage door was kept open because 
 of the heat, he kept carefully out of sight, 
 and watchfully avoided both seeing and being 
 seen. 
 
 When he retired that night, he spent a long 
 time before he went to sleep picturing to 
 himself the ordeal he would have to pass 
 through on the morrow at the Clog Shop, and 
 it took all the comfort he had got from his 
 mother's appreciation to nerve him to face the 
 fiery trial. 
 
 But the anticipation proved as usual worse 
 than the reality. Jabe treated him with a 
 dignified indifference, never even alluding to 
 Sunday, and the other frequenters of the Clog
 
 270 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Shop seemed more inclined to pity than to 
 scold him. 
 
 For the next two months Isaac spent most 
 of his spare time at his mother's bedside, and 
 the fiddle was in constant use, although Isaac 
 had often to confess to himself that he had 
 never played the anthem so well as he did on 
 that first sad night. 
 
 But now other things began to trouble him. 
 He thought he perceived a change in his 
 mother, and at last he mustered courage to 
 ask the doctor about it. 
 
 " She might linger for some time," was the 
 doctor's verdict, " but at longest she will scarcely 
 see the next winter through." 
 
 Poor Isaac ! It was hard work playing with 
 this fear on his mind. He had got so used to 
 his mother being in bed, that it seemed as if she 
 always had been there, and always would be. 
 What should he do if she were taken ? There 
 would be nobody to live for and nobody to play 
 for then. Life would be a blank. 
 
 One night, some three weeks after Isaac's 
 consultation with Dr. Walmsley, he had been 
 kept rather later than usual at the Clog Shop 
 by pressure of business. When he got home 
 he found his mother strangely changed. She 
 seemed greatly oppressed with the heat and 
 very restless. By this time Isaac's faith in the 
 power of his fiddle was almost boundless, and 
 so in a few minutes he was sitting in his old
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 271 
 
 place by the bedside and fiddling away at the 
 simple melodies his mother liked. For a time 
 the music seemed to excite rather than soothe. 
 She sat up two or three times and looked at 
 him earnestly, and then fell back with a gasp 
 on her pillow. This alarmed Isaac more than 
 he cared to show, and he glided off into Sunday- 
 school tunes, carefully reserving his one unfailing 
 little hymn until the last. 
 
 "Arr they comin', muther?" he said, in a 
 loud whisper, as he reached the end of " The 
 realms of the blest," and a faint voice 
 replied — 
 
 " Bless thi, lad ! Bless thi ! " 
 
 Isaac tried another tune, and then a third. 
 
 " Con yo' see 'em, muther ? " 
 
 " Bless thi, lad ! " came back through the 
 twilight in a faint gasp. 
 
 As he played " There is a happy land," 
 Isaac inwardly resolved that if he did not 
 get a more satisfactory answer from his mother 
 next time, he would plunge right away into 
 the irresistible " I want to be an angel," and 
 when he got through the tune and bent 
 forward, he noticed that his mother was sitting 
 up, and leaning towards him, and gazing at 
 him with a strange intentness. 
 
 " Con yo' see 'em yet ? " he asked, in hushed 
 tones. 
 
 The suffering woman bent farther forward 
 and took his face between her hands, and,
 
 272 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 looking with burning gaze into his eyes, she 
 said earnestly — 
 
 " See 'em ! Well, Aw con see wu7i on 'em at 
 ony rate. Aw th' angils i' heaven arna as bonny 
 ta me as my oan fiddlin' dogger lad ; an' they 
 hevna done mooar fur me, nayther." 
 
 Isaac was startled. It was a most unusual 
 action on the part of his mother, and her 
 words were more strange than her deeds. But 
 for all that those words sent a warm gush 
 into his heart, and so, to relieve his feelings, 
 he dashed off once more into " I want to be an 
 angel." 
 
 Before he had got through, his mother had 
 dropped back upon her pillow, and Isaac, 
 taking this for a good sign, began again. 
 Then he tried a third and even a fourth tune, 
 and when at last he stopped, he discovered 
 that his mother was asleep. Softly putting 
 his fiddle away, and lighting a candle, he 
 approached the bedside. His mother was 
 apparently in deep slumber, but such a 
 peaceful, happy sleep it seemed. She almost 
 seemed to be smiling, and once more the 
 temptation to kiss the pain-worn face came 
 to the bashful lad, but only to be resisted, as 
 before. 
 
 Then he stole off to bed, and when, next 
 morning, he came to the bedside to greet his 
 parent, he found that she had had her desire, 
 and gone to see the angels, Isaac stood for
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 273 
 
 a moment stunned ; then, uttering a great, 
 dreadful cry, he flew off to the Clog Shop. 
 
 Jabe, Aunt Judy, and Sam Speck were soon 
 on hand to render all possible help, and deep, 
 though almost wordless, sympathy. Three 
 days later, his mother was laid in the chapel 
 yard, and Isaac, refusing several rudely-tender 
 offers of at least temporary lodgings, went back 
 to live by himself in his mother's cottage. 
 
 For a whole month he never touched his 
 fiddle, but spent his spare time gathering 
 together the few little knick-knacks belonging 
 to his mother, and arranging and rearranging 
 them in an old box covered with wall-paper. 
 
 One sultry evening he felt more pensive than 
 usual. Somehow the box failed to interest him 
 for once, and he wandered about the house in 
 a restless, uneasy manner. 
 
 Presently he turned towards the mantel- 
 piece, and, after hesitating a moment, reached 
 down his fiddle, and drew the bow gently 
 across the strings. The instrument gave forth 
 a most plaintive note. That touched him. 
 He felt his hand shake, and so, with a heavy 
 sigh, he put the fiddle back into its bag and 
 hung it up again. 
 
 But he was now more restless than ever. 
 He went to the open door and stood looking 
 moodily up and down the road. Then he 
 came back and stood in the middle of the 
 floor. A feeling of intolerable loneliness came
 
 274 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 over him. He looked round the room again 
 and again as if seeking someone, and then, 
 drawing a long breath, he moaned out, " Aw 
 am looansome " ; and then, after a pause, " Aw 
 wuish mi muther's angels 'ud come." 
 
 And as he stood there in his misery, a 
 thought suddenly struck him. 
 
 " They'll happen come if Aw play," he cried, 
 and snatched down his fiddle. " Hoo'll happen 
 come hersel'. Hay, Aw w^uish hoo wod, bless 
 her ! " 
 
 Then he commenced to play. The twilight 
 was just gathering in, and but for the open 
 door the small - windowed house would have 
 been almost in darkness. 
 
 As Isaac played, his spirits rose. He 
 began to think that perhaps the angels would 
 come, and so he played on and felt relieved 
 and cheered. Tune after tune was gone 
 through, the music moving the lonely, fretful 
 heart of the young dogger, until it grew 
 strangely light and warm. As he played, he 
 glanced round into the darker corners of the 
 room as if expecting to see someone. Still he 
 played, getting lighter-hearted and more hope- 
 ful almost every moment. Just as he was 
 turning upon what he had reserved as usual 
 for the last, a shadow fell across the door- 
 way. He did not see it for a moment, and 
 had got into the second line of his tune, 
 when, turning towards the doorway, he stopped
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 275 
 
 suddenly, and cried, in undisguised astonish- 
 ment — 
 
 " Lizer ! " 
 
 Yes, there she was. The same black-eyed, 
 bewitching beauty upon whom he had once so 
 fondly looked with hope. But her face was 
 grave — a strange thing indeed for her. She 
 also seemed a little shy and embarrassed. 
 
 " Ay, it's me, lad," she said, in answer to 
 Isaac's startled question ; and even he could 
 not help noticing that there was a tone of 
 kindness and sympathy in her voice. 
 
 Isaac pointed to a chair, but she blushed and 
 shook her head, glancing the while at the door 
 as if meditating flight. 
 
 Isaac noted this, and was just about to beg 
 her not to go so soon, when she stopped him 
 by asking — 
 
 " Artna looansome livin' here by thisel' ? " 
 
 " Hay, Aw am that," said Isaac, and the 
 look he cast at her would have melted a heart 
 of stone. 
 
 There was an awkward pause, during which 
 Eliza was drawing figures on the sanded floor 
 with the iron of a dainty clog. 
 
 " Wot wur that thaa wur playin' ? " she asked, 
 although the wicked puss knew as well as he 
 did. 
 
 "'Aw want ta be a iiangil,' my muther's tune, 
 thaa knows." 
 
 "Did thi muther loike it?"
 
 276 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Ay, hoo did that ; hoo uset say it browt 
 th' angils tew her. Aw thowt it 'ud happen 
 bring 'em to me." 
 
 There was another long pause, and more 
 clog-iron sketching on the floor. Presently, 
 after looking at him steadily for a moment, 
 she resumed her drawing, saying as she did 
 so — 
 
 " Wot dust w^ant angils fur ? " 
 
 " 'Cause Aw'm sa looansome. They uset 
 comfort my muther, and they'd happen comfort 
 me." 
 
 The pause that followed was longer than ever, 
 and by the way Eliza kept glancing towards 
 the door, Isaac expected every moment to 
 see her dart away through it and vanish. But 
 presently she bent her pretty head, and a great 
 blush began to rise up her white neck — 
 
 " Aw wuish Azv wur a hangil," she stammered, 
 and then snatching up her little white apron, 
 she hid her hot face in it and seemed about to 
 begin to cry. 
 
 But even then the stupid Isaac could not see, 
 and so, looking up with dull astonishment, he 
 asked — 
 
 " Wot does t/ma want ta be a hangil fur ? " 
 
 But Eliza was already trembling with the 
 thought of her own boldness, and so there 
 came out of the crumpled apron the single 
 word — 
 
 " Nowt."
 
 ISAAC'S ANGEL 277 
 
 And then the slow lover seemed to guess 
 something, only it was altogether too wonderful 
 and astonishing to be true ; but presently he 
 ventured — 
 
 " Thaa could be mooar nor a hangil ta me if 
 thaa nobbut wod." 
 
 " Wot ? " 
 
 " A woife." 
 
 And "Lizer" didn't "fly up," as he had 
 expected ; she didn't even run away. She just 
 stood there and cried, and seemed to be waiting 
 to be taken possession of. And at last Isaac 
 ventured ; but how it was done, and how Eliza 
 responded is really too private a matter to be 
 detailed in print. 
 
 An hour later, Isaac stood at Jonas Tatlock's 
 garden gate, talking brightly to his sweet- 
 heart, even then scarcely able to believe in 
 his luck. 
 
 " Lizer," he said, " Aw allis thowt as thaa 
 looked daan o' me an' loufed at me." 
 
 " Aw'st louf at thi ageean mony a toime afoor 
 Aw've dun wi' thi," was the saucy reply. 
 
 " Bud, Lizer, did thaa cum ta see me ta-neet 
 'cause thaa yerd Aw wur looansome?" 
 
 " Neaw." 
 
 ** Wot then ? " 
 
 " Well, thaa knows, when thi muther deed, 
 foak were aw saying haa thaa'd tan cur o' thi 
 muther an' fiddled to her aw neet o'er ? " 
 
 " Well, wot bi that ? "
 
 278 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Lizer hesitated, looked down into Isaac's 
 homely face for a moment, and then gazing 
 right before her, said hesitatingly — 
 
 " Well, thaa knows, Aw thowt as a lad as 
 teuk cur of an owd woman 'ud happen tak' cur 
 of a young un tew."
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 I 
 
 Rocks Ahead
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 
 Rocks Ahead 
 
 "Ho! ho! ho! hoo'll ha' me! Hoo'U ha' me! 
 Hoo says hoo'll ha' me ! " laughed Isaac to 
 himself, as he walked down the " broo " home- 
 wards, on the night of Lizer's acceptance of 
 him. 
 
 His head rolled about, his hands were thrust 
 deep into his greasy fustian trousers, and he 
 seemed to walk on air ; whilst every limb of his 
 body appeared to be working on springs. His 
 delight was almost uncontrollable. 
 
 When he had got past Long Ben's he stopped 
 and looked up. The sky was full of soft light, 
 and though it was not yet dark, the stars seemed 
 so close and bright that they appeared to 
 challenge him, and so, lifting his head, he cried 
 joyfully — 
 
 " Capt ? Ay, Aw'st think yo' arr capt. 
 Aw'm capt mysel' ! Bud it's trew ! Hoo'll ha' 
 
 281
 
 282 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 me. Me! Aw tell yo'. Hoo said hoo wod 
 hersel'," and he burst out into a great triumphant 
 laugh. 
 
 A moment later he had reached his own little 
 dwelling, the door of which he had left open on 
 departing to see Lizer home. 
 
 On the threshold he stopped and pointed to a 
 flag a yard or two nearer the fireplace. 
 
 " It wur theer," he cried, "just theer. Hoo 
 wur stonnin' o' thatunce," and the foolish 
 fellow produced a grotesque imitation of Eliza's 
 naturally graceful attitude. " An' hoo said it 
 hersel'. An' hay, hoo did say it noice ; hoo did 
 fur shure." 
 
 The house seemed strangely empty and unre- 
 sponsive. Isaac felt he must give expression to 
 his feelings, and there was nobody to talk to. 
 Just then he spied the birdcage hanging in the 
 inside of the chimney-jamb with its dropsical- 
 looking occupant fast asleep. Even a bird was 
 better than nothing to tell his happiness to. 
 
 " Naa, then," he cried, giving the cage a sharp 
 rap. " Wakken up, wilta. Did t'yer what hoo 
 said ? Tha owt ta sing, mon ! Sing till tha 
 brasts thisel'. Hoo says hoo'll ha' me. Bi th' 
 mon, if hoo does Aw'll bey thi a new cage." 
 
 The bird, startled out of its sleep, hopped 
 clumsily into the middle of its little house, 
 opened the eye nearest to Isaac with a startled 
 protesting look, and then drowsily closing it 
 again, dozed off once more to sleep.
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 283 
 
 Isaac turned away and went and stood in the 
 doorway. By this time it was as dark as it ever 
 would be that night, and the village sounded 
 strangely still. Leaning against the doorpost, 
 Isaac glanced up and down the road two or 
 three times as if seeking someone to whom to 
 tell his great secret ; but not a soul seemed to 
 be stirring. 
 
 Then he stepped out gently, closed the door 
 after him, and, crossing the road, turned 
 hurriedly into " Sally's Entry," and hastened 
 through the mill yard and along the mill lane, 
 and in a moment or two was standing under the 
 lilac tree at the bottom of Jonas's garden. 
 
 For several minutes he stood looking in a 
 sort of triumphant ecstasy at the windows, first 
 downstairs and then up. He had never even 
 heard of serenading, and couldn't have sung if 
 he had, so he propped his chin on the flag fence 
 under the lilac bush, and, looking from one 
 window to another, he murmured thickly — 
 
 " Tak' cur on her, Lord ! Tak' cur on her ! 
 Tha's tan wun guardian hangil off me, bud 
 Tha's gan mi anuther." 
 
 Then he paused, and looking over his shoulder 
 as if to answer some invisible objector, he went 
 on. 
 
 " Simple ? Aw know Aw'm a bit simple, bud 
 hoo isna? Hoo's as sharp as a weasel, an' as 
 bonny as a rooase, and hoo says hoo'U ha' me, 
 an' Aw cur fur nowt nor noabry if hoo does."
 
 284 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And suppressing with difficulty another great 
 laugh, he moved away towards home, stopping 
 every now and then as he went along, and 
 glancing proudly back at Jonas's windows. 
 
 His heart gave a little leap as he passed the 
 Clog Shop, for he suddenly noticed by the star- 
 light that Jabe was standing smoking at the shop 
 door, and great as was his joy and confidence, 
 the sight of that terrible form quite chilled him. 
 
 He had not altogether recovered when he 
 reached home, and on entering the cottage he 
 carefully closed the door as if apprehensive that 
 his master might be following him. 
 
 Standing on the hearthstone, and looking 
 round in the dim light, he noticed a little can of 
 milk, and, picking it hastily up, he " swigged " 
 away at it until the last drop was gone. 
 
 As he put the can down again slowly and 
 meditatively in the faint light he touched some- 
 thing that gave forth an indistinct strumming 
 sound. It was his old fiddle. 
 
 The preoccupied look which had been on his 
 face ever since he had seen his master vanished 
 like magic, a gleam of eager joy came into his 
 eyes, and, groping about on the table, first for 
 the instrument and then for its bow, he cried 
 delightedly — 
 
 " Hay ! is that thee, owd lad ? Come here 
 wi' thi," and snatching it up and holding it out 
 eagerly, whilst his face beamed with admiration 
 and gratitude, he cried —
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 285 
 
 " Sithi ! If Aw didna want ta play on thi 
 Aw'd ha' thi framed. Bless thi owd hert, dust 
 know wot tha's dun ? Tha's getten me a sweet- 
 heart, mon ! Th' bonniest wench i' th' Clough. 
 Ay, or i' th' country oather. Hay, bud tha'art 
 a grand un. Aw nobbut gan three shillin' fur 
 thi, bud Aw wodna tak' ten paand this varry 
 minute." 
 
 And then he grasped it again between his fists, 
 and shook it as a sign of excessive affection, and 
 holding his coat sleeve in its place by doubling 
 his hand over it, he gently polished the already 
 shining back, and looked as though he would 
 kiss it. 
 
 " Sithi," he cried at last, holding it out at arm's- 
 length and gazing at it with ardent admiration, 
 " Aw wodna part wi' thi fur aw th' instruments 
 th' Clog Shop iver hed in it, an' wotiver comes 
 an' wotiver goos, thee and me niver parts — 
 niver, neavv niver ! " 
 
 Poor Isaac ! If he had known — but fortun- 
 ately he did not. And so, after polishing it and 
 caressing it and doing all sorts of ridiculous 
 things with it to show his affection, he finally 
 put it tenderly away in the chimney-corner, and 
 went to bed. 
 
 Next morning, in spite of a restless, almost 
 sleepless night, Isaac was in, if possible, higher 
 spirits than ever. Rising earlier than usual, he 
 waylaid Old Jethro on his knocking-up rounds, 
 and dragged him into the cottage to have a cup
 
 286 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 of hot coffee, and when the old man was 
 departing he called him back, and with an air 
 of mingled mystery and delight, said eagerly — 
 
 " Jethro, afoor th' wik's aat yo'U yer summat. 
 An' it's trew, moind yo', every wod on it," and 
 then darting indoors, he banged the door upon 
 his old friend and set up another great laugh. 
 
 Then he tried to engage the " throstle " in a 
 whistling competition, but his own notes were 
 so loud and shrill from sheer excess of happiness 
 that the poor bird realised at once that he had 
 no chance, and retiring from the contest, stood 
 looking at Isaac in amazement and apparent 
 perplexity. 
 
 Ten minutes to six found our young dogger 
 dodging up and down Mill Lane, in the hope of 
 seeing, and maybe even speaking to his sweet- 
 heart, but when she at last appeared he had to 
 resist a sudden temptation to run away. And 
 as Lizer caught sight of him, and actually left 
 the two girls she was walking with and crossed 
 the lane to speak to him, even the exhortation 
 she gave him to " goa whoam, and dunna mak' 
 a foo' o' thisel'," failed to damp his joy, and he 
 went down the " broo " again, struggling with a 
 great desire to shout. 
 
 At seven o'clock he went to the Clog Shop, 
 and after opening the shutters and lighting 
 Jabe's parlour fire and putting on the kettle, 
 he sat down before the back window to work. 
 
 But he was very restless. Taking a partly-
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 287 
 
 finished clog between his knees, he sat looking 
 musingly at it and smiling every now and again 
 at his evidently delightful thoughts. 
 
 Presently he got up, threw open his window, 
 and seeing a cluster of roses hanging over the 
 window frame, he plucked one, and filling the 
 bottom part of an old oil-can with water, stuck 
 the flower in it and set it on the bench before 
 him. Then he began to work again in a sudden 
 hurry, and as he worked he whistled. Then the 
 whistle grew into a hum, and in a few moments, 
 in entire forgetfulness of everything but his own 
 great happiness, he burst out singing — if sing- 
 ing it could be called. 
 
 The sun was pouring its warm rays through 
 the window and bathing him in golden light, 
 the waving corn on the hillside beyond his 
 master's garden seemed to smile with him, the 
 birds were singing blithely in the trees that 
 fringed the garden in evident sympathy, and all 
 nature seemed to him to felicitate him on his 
 great gladness. The singer, though his tones 
 were harsh and unmusical, had thrown back his 
 head, and was almost shouting in the excess of 
 his joy, when suddenly a whole shower of clog- 
 tops came flying at his head. 
 
 He stopped, and, with his mouth still open, 
 turned in the direction from whence the missiles 
 came, and lo ! quite near to him was his dread 
 master, standing glaring at him in the parlour 
 doorway.
 
 288 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Jabe was very scantily apparelled. His stock- 
 ings had been pulled hastily upon his legs, the 
 feet part of them still flapping about. His 
 blue-striped shirt was stuffed hurriedly into his 
 trousers, which were held in their place by a 
 single brace, the remaining one hanging down 
 behind and dangling about his legs. He still 
 wore his red-tasselled nightcap, and the face 
 below that headdress was something terrible to 
 behold in its indignant sternness. 
 
 " Wot's ta dew wi' thi, thaa yowling swelled' 
 yed ? " he demanded in gruffest anger. 
 
 Isaac felt a momentary shock at the sound of 
 his master's voice, but his joy was so great that 
 even this fearful apparition could not daunt him, 
 and so, dropping the clog, he was working upon, 
 he rose hastily to his feet and cried — 
 
 " Aw conna help it, mestur. Aw'st brast if 
 Aw dunna sing. Hoo'll ha' me ! Hoo says 
 hoo'll ha' me ! " 
 
 Jabe stood in the doorway glaring at his 
 apprentice with fixed, stony gaze, but not a word 
 did he utter. 
 
 " Lizer, mestur ! Lizer Tatlock. Hoo says 
 hoo'll ha' me." 
 
 Jabe's face became grimmer and stonier than 
 ever, every muscle seeming to be perfectly rigid. 
 
 " Hay, mestur, Lizer 'ud mak' a — a — a — wheel- 
 barrow sing. Hoo'd mak' j'o' sing if hoo said 
 hoo'd hev yo'." 
 
 The grotesque figure in the doorway neither
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 289 
 
 moved nor spoke, but still stood gazing in 
 annihilating scorn on the poor apprentice. 
 
 Presently the short leg gave a sort of premoni- 
 tory jerk, the eyelids twitched rapidly, and at 
 last, in tones of withering rebuke, the Clogger 
 said — 
 
 " Isaac, women's bin makkin' gradely men 
 inta foo's iver sin' th' wold began, bud naa 
 they've started a makkin' foo's inta bigger foo's. 
 Tha's bin totterin' upo' th' edge o' Bedlam iver 
 sin' Aw know'd thi, an' th' fost bit of a wench 
 as leuks at thi picks thi straight in." 
 
 And drawing himself up to his full height, and 
 putting on, if possible, a grimmer look, Jabe 
 transfixed poor Isaac with a stony eye, and then 
 solemnly stepped back into the parlour and 
 banged the door. 
 
 When Jabe came downstairs into the parlour, 
 after completing his morning toilet, the look of 
 stern anger had entirely disappeared from his 
 rugged countenance, and a pleasant, even 
 amused, expression had taken its place. 
 
 The fact was that the indignation that made 
 him look so terrible to poor Isaac had been 
 almost entirely assumed, in conformity with the 
 general principles of his workshop discipline. 
 
 As he mashed his tea and cut his bread and 
 butter a look of mischievous enjoyment gleamed 
 out of the corners of his eyes, and now and 
 then a soft relishful chuckle escaped him. As 
 he consumed his breakfast his merriment 
 
 19
 
 ago BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 increased, and he more than once burst into a 
 laugh, whilst he slapped his thigh in keenest 
 enjoyment, his short leg becoming increasingly 
 demonstrative as he mused. 
 
 " Well dun, Isaac," he chuckled, " tha's byetten 
 [beaten] th' fawsest woman i' Beckside aw ta 
 flinters. Bi th' ferrups ! bud hoo'll mak' a shindy 
 abaat this." 
 
 And then he rose from his chair, put on his 
 
 leathern apron, lighted his pipe, and assuming 
 
 once more a grim, surly air, walked into the shop. 
 
 All that day poor Isaac was subjected to a 
 
 constant fire of raillery. 
 
 At one time the ridiculous and impudent 
 presumption of " 'prentice lads " and " little 
 two-loom wayvers " " reaconing to cooart " was 
 scoffed at. 
 
 " Sich childer ! wee'st ha' hawf-timers puttin' 
 in th' axins next." 
 
 Then the folly of marriage under any circum- 
 stances was set forth, and dwelt upon with 
 becoming length and exhaustiveness. Isaac's 
 mentor then passed by a natural and easy 
 transition to a diatribe on the ways and wiles 
 of women. 
 
 Soon the tormentor became ironical, and 
 pretended to offer his misguided apprentice sin- 
 cere commiseration on his reckless act and its 
 terrible consequences, and finally he dropped 
 into a humorous vein, and affected curiosity as 
 to the art and mystery of courtship.
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 291 
 
 All this Isaac bore with buoyant equanimity, 
 having, in fact, anticipated something very much 
 worse. Late in the afternoon the unusually 
 garrulous Clogger started a new line of thought. 
 He had been sitting in the inglenook chatting 
 with Sam Speck, after baggin', and when his 
 visitor had departed he still sat musing in 
 the fireless corner. All at once, however, he 
 whisked round, and eyeing his apprentice with 
 a look of stern reprobation, said — 
 
 " Tha'rt a bonny mon ta steil anuther felley's 
 wench, artna ; an' thee a member tew." 
 
 The self-complacent, almost consequential, 
 simper which Isaac's plain face had worn most 
 of the day suddenly vanished, and in its place 
 came an expression of blank surprise and 
 sorrow. For, in all the hours of his happiness 
 since Lizer's acceptance of him, strange though 
 it may appear, he had never once thought 
 seriously of Joe Gullett, and now that he was 
 suddenly reminded of him, the sun of his 
 gladness suffered an almost instantaneous 
 eclipse. 
 
 A customer came in just at that moment who 
 had left a pair of clogs to be reclogged, which 
 Jabe had decided were not worth it, and as this 
 meant a battle royal, exactly to the pugnacious 
 dogger's heart, poor Isaac was left for a while 
 to his own painful reflections, 
 
 " Hay, dear ! " he sighed forlornly, looking out 
 through his little window, "happiness doesn't
 
 292 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 last lung! Wheniver Aw wur a bit marlocky 
 my muther uset say as Aw shud sewn hev' a 
 clewt at th' t'other soide o' mi yed ; an' it is sa." 
 And then after a moment or two of most 
 melancholy musing, he groaned — 
 
 " Poor Joe ! " 
 
 Presently he began to see himself as an 
 interloper and thief. He had stolen an old 
 friend's sweetheart. Basely stolen her ! And 
 not fairly either. Hadn't he employed the 
 subtle and irresistible witchery of fiddling to 
 accomplish his selfish purpose ? And he began 
 to feel much as a person would do who had 
 obtained some coveted possession by basely 
 resorting to sorcery. 
 
 But just then the memory of certain quite 
 irresistible glances and certain most seductive 
 tones which he had seen and heard the night 
 before under the lilac tree came back to him, 
 and sent such a sweet thrill through him that 
 in a moment or two Isaac found himself con- 
 templating a certain young dogger so bound in 
 the enslavements of love that he had become 
 utterly reckless of all moral or spiritual con- 
 siderations whatsoever, and this, as it intensified 
 his sense of guiltiness, compelled him to regard 
 himself as a mass of meanness, selfishness, and 
 treachery. 
 
 Just as he felt himself sinking deeper and 
 deeper into this slough of iniquity, he suddenly 
 heard a loud whisper —
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 293 
 
 " Isaac ! " 
 
 Isaac started guiltily, made a fussy pretence 
 to be working, and then glanced furtively round 
 to see who was calling him. 
 
 It was Sam Speck. Jabe was still engaged 
 in a loud unsparing denunciation of the " scrattin' 
 ways " of the owner of the condemned clogs, 
 and so Sam had come in and taken his seat 
 in the fireless inglenook without being noticed. 
 He was perched on the outermost edge of a 
 superannuated clog bench, which now did duty 
 as a fireside seat, and was leaning forward as 
 far as he could so as to be able to whisper to 
 Isaac without being heard. And as Isaac 
 glanced round in response to the call, he put 
 his hand to his mouth and called out quickly — 
 
 " Tha'll cop it, lad ! Bet Gullett's fair raving 
 yond' ! Hoo says hoo'U leather thi," and then as 
 the door banged to, and Jabe's customer, van- 
 quished and humbled, left the shop, Sam turned 
 round to conceal what he had been doing, and 
 entered into conversation with his chief, whilst 
 Isaac was left to his own tormenting reflections. 
 
 Betty Gullett was the village termagant, and 
 a terror to all peaceable people. The one soft 
 place in her heart was that filled by her son Joe, 
 and Isaac suddenly realised that he had made 
 a most formidable enemy, who would stick at 
 nothing to accomplish her revenge. 
 
 Isaac was not, of course, afraid of any mere 
 physical castigation that might be in store for
 
 294 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 him, but in his excited fancy he saw himself 
 attacked on the road, or outside the chapel, or 
 even in his own house, by a fearful woman whose 
 very husband had run away to America years 
 ago to be out of reach of her tongue and temper. 
 
 By this time he was in a cold sweat. The 
 hand that limply held the clog - top he was 
 stitching positively shook, and his emotions 
 were so distracting that he could neither work 
 nor think. He felt sick, and for the first time 
 in his life he could not cry to relieve his distress. 
 
 He had sat in his place fighting, now with a 
 reproaching conscience and then with his own 
 quaking fears, for some time, when presently he 
 became dimly conscious that he was being made 
 the subject of a muttered conversation in the 
 inglenook. And now Sam Speck and his gruff 
 employer suddenly appeared to his distorted 
 fancy as kind friends, instead of the cynical 
 critics he had ever regarded them. He would 
 sooner face them a hundred times than endure 
 one five minutes of Betty Gullett. 
 
 Another moment, and in his anguish he would 
 have got up and unbosomed himself to them, 
 and thrown himself on their pity and protection ; 
 but just then others of the Clog Shop cronies 
 came in, and Isaac, with a despairing gasp, 
 shrank back into himself again. 
 
 The hour that followed was probably the 
 longest of Isaac's life. Would " knocking off" 
 time never come? One five minutes he was
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 295 
 
 working desperately ; the next he was gazing 
 out of his window with a woeful, desolate look. 
 
 Oh, what a wretch he had been to steal 
 another lad's wench ! What would people think 
 of him ? He would never be able to hold his 
 head up in Beckside again. But he was being 
 most deservedly punished. Judgment had 
 overtaken him with most exemplary swiftness ; 
 and as the squat form and red face of Mrs. 
 Gullett rose before his mind, she appeared to 
 him as an awful avenging sprite. Then he fell 
 to pitying himself as an unlucky wight, and a 
 poor friendless orphan, and here relief would 
 have come, for he felt he could cry but for the 
 close proximity of so many unfeeling men. Oh 
 that he could be alone, just to relieve his heart, 
 as he longed to do ! 
 
 And "at lung last" the old long-cased clock 
 just inside the parlour door began to growl as 
 an introduction to barking — that is striking ; 
 and by the time the latter operation was con- 
 cluded, Isaac was out of the shop and hurrying 
 down the " broo " to the little cottage where he 
 knew he would be alone. 
 
 And now an extraordinary thing happened. 
 As Isaac turned homewards, with his head down 
 and his heart thumping at his side, he began to 
 pray, and as he prayed he reached the cottage 
 door and commenced fumbling in his pocket for 
 the lever of the latch, which was the only form 
 of key he used. And if any curious reader
 
 296 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 interested in spiritualistic manifestations will 
 make a journey to Beckside, the present occu- 
 pant of the Clog Shop will tell him that just as 
 he was putting the sneck into the door on that 
 memorable evening, he distinctly heard a voice 
 say to him, " Goa ta Lizer," and he will ask 
 you, in a voice that rebukes all scepticism, 
 " Wurn't that a hanser ta pruyer ? " 
 
 Answer or no, voice or no, it came to poor 
 buffeted Isaac as a revelation. 
 
 Of course ! Why had he never thought of it 
 before ? Lizer was equal to anj'thing — equal to 
 anything — even to Betty Gullett. 
 
 It took only a very few minutes for him to 
 get some hasty apology for a supper. 
 
 A great load had been taken off his mind. 
 Leaving Lizer to deal wdth his terrible she- 
 enemy, and relying on old acquaintanceship 
 and a close knowledge of Joe's disposition, he 
 would do his best to conciliate his rival. He 
 would apologise. If absolutely necessary, and 
 Lizer didn't object, he would tell Joe the whole 
 truth as to how he came to get Lizer at all, and 
 surely that would pacify him. 
 
 But his first duty was to see Lizer, and after 
 Lizer, Joe. 
 
 With these thoughts in his mind, he started 
 for his sweetheart's house. Perfectly satisfied 
 and at ease as to Lizer's ability to deal with the 
 greater enemy, he began to arrange in his mind 
 his own interview with the injured Joe. He
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 297 
 
 grew surer and surer that he could mollify Joe. 
 He would seek him out immediately after seeing 
 Lizer, and get it done with and off his mind. 
 
 He hoped he would be able to find Joe. It 
 would be disappointing if he couldn't, or if Joe 
 wouldn't talk to him when he did find him, but 
 he would hope for the best. 
 
 Hello ! Isaac had by this time nearly reached 
 Tatlock's house, and was stepping forward at 
 much more than his usual pace, when lo ! right 
 under the lilac tree, the scene of last night's 
 great happiness, stood Joe himself. 
 
 Isaac pulled up suddenly ; his heart gave a 
 great leap ; he began to shake from head to 
 foot. Joe had seen him, and was actually 
 coming towards him, so that the interview so 
 eagerly desired a moment ago would be got 
 over at once. Isaac hesitated a moment, tried 
 to move, but felt as if he could not ; put his 
 hand to his head, grabbed frantically at his cap, 
 and the next moment, cap in hand, he was flee- 
 ing along Mill Lane as fast as his shaking legs 
 could carry him.
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 
 II 
 
 Remorse 
 
 290
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 II 
 
 Remorse 
 
 Down the lane, through the mill yard and along 
 Sally's Entry, rushed poor Isaac, evidently 
 making for home. As he neared that haven, 
 however, he began to have misgivings as to its 
 security as a place of refuge, and so, when he 
 reached it, he rushed past and down the " broo " 
 and over the bridge, turning to the right on the 
 other side, and scudding along the path up the 
 Beck side, glancing apprehensively around every 
 few yards to see if he were being followed. 
 
 When he had got some half a mile up the 
 Clough he slackened pace, for no pursuer was 
 in sight. Then he sat down on the Beck side to 
 get his breath, moaning and groaning in self- 
 disgust and fear. Then he grew quieter, and, 
 as it was now nearly dark, he began to pick 
 his way across the stones in the Beck, and to 
 steal slowly but fearfully homeward. 
 
 301
 
 302 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 He hesitated for some time before approach- 
 ing the cottage, but now the desire to see Lizer, 
 and the fear of what she would say, first of his 
 absence and then of his cowardly flight before 
 his rival, were urging him forward as strongly as 
 his fear of meeting Joe was holding him back. 
 
 Very cautiously he approached the backyard 
 wall in Shaving Lane. Then he climbed clumsily 
 over it into the disused hencote, where he would 
 fain have rested ; but by this time his concern 
 about Lizer had grown so strong that he could 
 not keep still, and in a few moments he had re- 
 climbed the back wall, scudded along the lane 
 again, and striking the footpath that led up 
 into the Duxbury Road, he was soon stealing 
 carefully past the chapel and the Clog Shop on 
 his way to Tatlock's house. 
 
 " Isaac ! " 
 
 The young dogger nearly jumped out of his 
 skin. The voice came from somewhere behind 
 him, and as he remembered the voice he 
 suddenly realised that he must have passed 
 Lizer somewhere and never seen her. The girl 
 was standing with a shawl over her head, under 
 the hedge of a garden, and he must have almost 
 touched her as he passed. 
 
 She was evidently shaking with quiet laughter, 
 and began to question him quite innocently as 
 to where he had been, and why he had passed 
 her '■ sa independent." 
 
 Now Isaac had vowed half a dozen times
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 303 
 
 within the half-hour that no power under the 
 sun should ever induce him to tell Lizer why 
 he had so ignominiously fled, and so in a clumsy 
 fashion he tried to fence. And Lizer only 
 laughed a soft delightful sort of laugh, and 
 pretended to be quite satisfied with his lame 
 and contradictory explanation. 
 
 But, somehow, — Isaac never could understand 
 how it came about, — ten minutes later, as they 
 stood once more under the lilac, he was telling 
 his sweetheart, without ever being asked to do 
 so, all that he had suffered during the day, not 
 omitting his terror of Mrs. Gullett, and his 
 sudden flight from the presence of Joe. 
 
 Sad to relate, Lizer laughed, and not a mere 
 good-behaviour laugh either. Under a surface 
 of demure sobriety, even Isaac could see that 
 she was secretly revelling in amusement and 
 delight. She enjoyed his description of his 
 many misgivings and heartrendings ; she en- 
 joyed even more his terror of Mrs. Gullett ; but 
 when it came to his pathetic and sympathy- 
 seeking account of his flight from Joe, the 
 hard-hearted little " hussy " could no longer 
 control herself, and broke out into a long 
 rippling laugh — a laugh which made her little 
 body shake all over, and even brought tears of 
 delight into her eyes. 
 
 Isaac felt chagrined, and had to struggle more 
 than once to overcome that unfortunate tend- 
 ency of his to tears. And then Lizer seemed to
 
 304 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 understand, and lightly changed her manner, so 
 that by the time they parted that night she 
 had somehow contrived to inspire her lover with 
 some of her own contempt for the terrible Betty, 
 and had also impressed upon him the necessity 
 of doing all he could to comfort the forlorn Joe. 
 Now this last idea was so much in harmony 
 with his own feelings that Isaac readily promised 
 and resolutely determined to carry it out. But 
 though he told himself twenty times a day how 
 eager he was to meet young Gullett, it was odd 
 that no opportunity seemed to present itself, 
 and when it came to actually setting out to 
 look for Joe, it was astonishing how many things 
 came to prevent him, and how easily he allowed 
 himself to be overcome by them. Saturday 
 night came, and he had not even seen his rival. 
 Moreover, do as he would, he could not get 
 over his terror of the terrible Betty, and every 
 time the Clog Shop door opened he gave a 
 nervous start, and held his breath in torturing 
 suspense until he heard the actual voice of the 
 new-comer and was reassured. Not once in 
 those days did he dare turn round to see who 
 the visitor might be. 
 
 Saturday and Sunday nights were regarded 
 as the great courting nights in Beckside, and 
 Isaac spent the whole of the former evening in 
 most delightful intercourse with his lady-love, 
 and was in a seventh heaven of delight. 
 
 Next morning, however, there came a change.
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 305 
 
 Isaac had for some few weeks now been taking 
 the violin part in the singing -pew, but that 
 morning as he went into school Lizer's youngest 
 brother, Jacky, stopped him, and told him that 
 his father wished him to keep away from the 
 singing-pew that day. That sounded ominous, 
 and Isaac became at once very uneasy. 
 
 When chapel commenced he saw with alarm 
 that Joe's place amongst the singers was vacant, 
 as was also that of Sophia Gullett, Joe's sister. 
 
 A minute later, Isaac felt a "crill" run down 
 his spine as Mrs. Gullett, accompanied by her 
 only son, stalked into the pew immediately in 
 front of his. Twice, at least, during the singing 
 of the first hymn Mrs. Gullett turned half round, 
 and stared coolly and contemptuously at poor 
 Isaac, each time sending him into a cold sweat. 
 
 Then in the prayer Isaac heard Joe sigh, and 
 this made him feel worse than ever. Once he 
 caught Sophia looking at him as if he were some 
 awful monster, and the sorrowful reproachfulness 
 of her glance as she turned away nearly brought 
 the ever-ready tears into his eyes. 
 
 Oh dear ! what a miserable fellow he was ! 
 But it was only another illustration of his 
 master's oft-repeated proverb that " the way of 
 transgressors is hard." As the service proceeded, 
 Joe kept sighing, and every sigh seemed to go 
 through the unhappy Isaac, his only consolation 
 in these painful moments being to take long 
 reassuring looks at his sweetheart. 
 
 20
 
 306 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 The service seemed a terrible length, and 
 towards the end of it another tormenting thought 
 took possession of him. Mrs. Gullett would be 
 sure to attack him when the service was over, 
 perhaps in the very chapel itself. There was 
 nothing for it but to go out before the service 
 closed. But no ; that would be to openly 
 manifest his cowardice, and Lizer wouldn't like 
 that. 
 
 What must he do? They were singing the 
 last hymn. Another moment and it would be 
 too late. The music stopped, and the people 
 began to kneel. 
 
 Now for it ! Isaac slid his hand softly down 
 over the side of the pew door. He partly 
 opened the door. Mrs. Gullett was moving. 
 He grabbed at his Sunday " crow " (hat), rose 
 softly to his feet, and made a rush. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! the matting outside the door had 
 puckered, and as poor Isaac started down the 
 narrow aisle, his Sunda}^ boot caught in a fold, 
 and he went sprawling full length on the floor. 
 
 How he got up, and out, and home that day 
 he never knew. And in the afternoon the chaff 
 to which he was subjected nearly drove him, as 
 he said, " maddlet." To make matters worse, 
 Lizer seemed actually to have enjoyed his 
 ignominious downfall, and did nothing but titter 
 and laugh as he poured out to her the tale of 
 his woes. Nay, to crown all, as he was leaving 
 her that night she gave him a sharp little lecture,
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 307 
 
 and bade him " be a gradely mon, an' nor a 
 dateliss gawmlin." 
 
 Another miserable night for poor Isaac, and 
 next day the attack was renewed. 
 
 As soon as he got to his work in the morning 
 old Jabe began to " bullyrag" him as a disturber 
 of divine worship, and an enemy of the church's 
 peace ; and later in the day, Sam Speck, in a 
 loud voice, informed the Clogger that Joe 
 Gullett v/as " takkin' lessons i' boxin' off little 
 Eli." 
 
 By evening, Isaac, made desperate from sheer 
 misery, was driven to the resolution to end the 
 matter one way or the other. All the night, 
 therefore, after ceasing work, he was hunting for 
 Joe. He dared not go to the house, but he 
 visited every other place where it was at all 
 likely that his rival might be found, but all to 
 no purpose. Then he went and hid himself in 
 a dark corner, opposite Joe's residence, to watch 
 for him coming home. But though he watched 
 long and anxiously until one by one every light 
 in the Gullett house had been extinguished, no 
 Joe turned up, and the suffering lad had perforce 
 to go home and brood over his sorrows. 
 
 During that long night, as he lay tossing 
 about in bed, alternately lamenting his fate and 
 praying for help and deliverance, a great thought 
 came to him. It made him sick as he faced it, 
 but slowly it took an inexorable grip of him, 
 and after fighting with it for an hour or more^
 
 3o8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 he realised that the path of duty had been laid 
 before him and that there was no escape. 
 
 As soon as it grew light enough he got up and 
 fetched his fiddle upstairs, and then lay back in 
 bed looking lovingly at it and groaning, and every 
 now and again drawing the bow gently across 
 the strings in an absent, pensive sort of way. 
 
 Then he got out of bed again and went down- 
 stairs, returning almost immediately with some 
 rubbing cloths and a bottle of little Eli's won- 
 derful furniture polish. 
 
 Then sitting on the bedside in his shirt, — he 
 had never possessed a night-shirt, — he began to 
 take the fiddle to pieces and clean and polish 
 it, part by part. Carefully and lovingly putting 
 it together again, and replacing an imperfect 
 string, he then began to play, slowly and 
 pensively at first, but as his interest in the 
 music deepened he grew earnest and then 
 excited, until, as he finished an encore on his 
 mother's favourite tune, he suddenly discovered 
 that it was almost time to be at work. So, 
 hastily dressing, he took the instrument down- 
 stairs again, hung it carefully in its place, and 
 then standing away from it and looking sorrow- 
 fully at it, he cried hoarsely — 
 
 " Aw conna help it, lad ! Aw'm shawmed ta 
 leuk at thi, bud Aw conna, conna help it." 
 
 And then he turned hastily away, and wiping 
 his eyes with the back of his hand, hurried out 
 to his work.
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 III 
 
 The Sacrifice 
 
 30»
 
 Isaac's Fiddle 
 III 
 
 The Sacrifice 
 
 Twice that day Isaac saw Joe GuUett, and Joe 
 saw him, but now, strange to say, the youth who 
 was supposed to be almost thirsting for poor 
 Isaac's blood hurried away before Isaac could 
 get near him. 
 
 But Isaac was not to be baulked. Having 
 once realised that the step he contemplated was 
 inevitable, he watched eagerly for his oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 He happened to be getting in the Clog Shop 
 coals that afternoon, and so as the mill was 
 "loosing" he spied Sophia Gullett going home 
 from her work. 
 
 Isaac dared not wait to think, and without a 
 moment's hesitation he darted across the road. 
 
 The girl pulled up as he drew near, and 
 hastily drew her shawl more tightly round her 
 arms. 
 
 311
 
 312 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " S'phia," began Isaac, with an attempt at a 
 coaxing smile, " wilt dew s.ummat for me? " 
 
 Sophia, who had had in her secret heart a sort 
 of fancy for Isaac for herself, and therefore felt 
 the more aggrieved at the choice he had made, 
 drew a step back, and then asked, with a ten- 
 tative inflexion in her voice — 
 
 " Wot is it ? " 
 
 Isaac felt the unspoken rebuff, but dared not 
 draw back now, and so, with quivering lips, he 
 stammered — 
 
 " Aw want ta speik ta your Joe ta-neet. "Wilt 
 ax him ta cum daan ta aar haase ? Do, wench, 
 wilta ? " 
 
 Sophia was tender-hearted, and felt herself 
 giving way, but remembering the necessity of 
 being loyal to her brother, she tossed her head 
 again, dodged past Isaac, and started home- 
 wards, simply saying as she did so, with a look 
 that gave Isaac no clue whatever as to her 
 intention — 
 
 " Happen Aw will, an' happen Aw winna." 
 
 The young dogger went back to his coal- 
 carrying very despondently. There was no 
 knowing what Sophia would do, and it seemed 
 very probable that he would not get rest to his 
 troubled mind that night, in spite of all his 
 resolutions and efforts. 
 
 However, when work was over he made for 
 home. There he busied himself " fettlin' up " 
 the house. Then he fetched in a couple of
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 313 
 
 bottles of little Eli's famous "yarb beer," and 
 then taking down his fiddle, he laid it tenderly 
 on the table and sat down to wait. 
 
 He had set the door open that he might see 
 anyone who passed, and moving his chair so 
 as to command as much of the road as possible 
 without being too conspicuous, he began his 
 watch. 
 
 But the time passed and no Joe appeared, 
 Isaac began to fidget. Several times he was 
 on the point of picking up his violin, but re- 
 strained himself. Then he began to walk about 
 the house. Then, as impatience and excitement 
 grew upon him, he tried to whistle and even to 
 sing, but there was no heart in his effort, and 
 his music soon ceased. 
 
 Presently he sauntered to the door, and, 
 putting on a laboured look of indifference, 
 stood propping the doorway v/ith his elbows. 
 Still no Joe, and it began to grow dark. He 
 had not explained his last night's absence to 
 Lizer, and this was evidently going to be a 
 second wasted evening. 
 
 To a girl of Lizer's spirit this was a serious 
 thing. Oh, what an unlucky wretch he — 
 
 Ah ! Sure enough, right up the " broo " was 
 coming the long - expected Joe, but he was 
 sauntering along as if he were going nowhere. 
 Isaac's heart went thump ! thump 1 His legs 
 began to tremble. An almost irresistible desire 
 to flee, or to go inside and bolt the door, came
 
 314 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 over him, but struggling earnestly against it, he 
 held his post. 
 
 Joe drew nearer, and Isaac had a good view 
 of him. He appeared to be just taking an easy 
 evening stroll. His mouth was puckered as if 
 he were softly whistling, and he was turning his 
 head and glancing at the housetops, first on one 
 side of the street, and then on the other, as 
 though he were looking for a stray pigeon, or 
 were interested in smoky chimneys. 
 
 And the nearer he came to Isaac the more 
 engrossed he seemed to be in his elevated 
 studies. He was now only a few yards away, 
 but was apparently entirely oblivious of Isaac's 
 presence. 
 
 The supreme moment had come. It was 
 now or never, Isaac felt. And so, assuming an 
 air of most careless unconcern, strangely unlike 
 his actual feelings, he finally managed to squeeze 
 out — 
 
 "Heaw dew, Joe?" 
 
 Joe did not stop, though he slackened speed 
 somewhat. He brought his eyes slowly back 
 from their distant occupation ; an awkward 
 smile flickered at one corner of his mouth. 
 He shot a shy glance at his rival, and then 
 quickly transferring his gaze to the housetops 
 once more, he answered — 
 
 " Heaw dew ? " 
 
 Then there was a pause, and Joe, to Isaac's 
 horror, seemed to be moving on again ; and so,
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 315 
 
 with another great effort, he forced out the 
 profound remark — 
 
 " Ther's a deeal o' midges abaat ta-neet." 
 
 But even this bold advance did not entirely 
 arrest the progress of the tantalising Joe. He 
 paused uncertainly, swung uneasily round on 
 one leg, and at length answered very slowly — 
 
 " Ay." 
 
 And then he stopped, and the two stood with 
 half the road between them, but for a minute 
 or more neither of them spoke. 
 
 Presently Isaac tried again. With a sigh, 
 and a painful effort, he ventured — 
 
 " Eli's tarrier's kilt a rotten [rat] ta-day," 
 
 " Aw've yerd sa." 
 
 And still the two were no nearer, and 
 watching them standing awkwardly talking 
 at each other from that distance, it would 
 have been difficult to decide which was more 
 uneasy. 
 
 After a while, Isaac stepped timidly down 
 from the doorstep, and taking one stride nearer 
 to his rival, made another remark about as 
 interesting as those above recorded. Then, as 
 he made a monosyllabic reply, Joe took a little 
 step towards Isaac, and stood hesitating in the 
 road. And so they went on, moving almost 
 inch by inch nearer to each other, making 
 casual and inane remarks about anything that 
 occurred to them, until they were actually close 
 together.
 
 3i6 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And then a spirit of dumbness seemed to have 
 seized upon both of them, and whilst Joe looked 
 up the road very dreely and hummed a tune, 
 Isaac looked down the hill and seemed to be 
 making a special study of the schoolhouse 
 beyond the bridge. 
 
 Then Joe made his first voluntary remark, 
 and though it was as little connected with the 
 subject in both their minds as any of his own 
 remarks had been, Isaac plucked up wonder- 
 fully, and at last, making a desperate plunge, 
 he cried with quite unnecessary excitement — 
 
 "Joe, hast seen my throstle?" 
 
 Joe never had, and so a minute later he 
 was standing in the house, waiting whilst Isaac 
 found a candle with which more effectually to 
 exhibit his feathered friend. The candle having 
 been lighted, and the poor bird wakened up to 
 be inspected, Joe passed encomiums upon it, 
 which were a clumsy compromise between 
 polite approval of the throstle and protest 
 against too great familiarity with its un- 
 pardoned proprietor. 
 
 When at length ornithology had been ex- 
 hausted as a topic of conversation, Isaac turned 
 round and thrust a chair forward, so that Joe, 
 if he wished, could sit down. But he, somehow, 
 could not ask him to do so. 
 
 Then he placed the candle on the table, 
 carefully setting it so that it would show off 
 the fiddle that was lying there. Then he espied
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 317 
 
 the two bottles of "yarb beer," and with a 
 sudden but very hollow show of cheerfulness, 
 he gaily opened them, and handed a foaming 
 pint pot to Joe. 
 
 But a sudden fit of taciturnity, and even 
 melancholy, seemed to have seized Joe. For 
 though he dropped into the chair near him, he 
 heaved a most lugubrious sigh, and tragically 
 waved the beer away, as though it were trifling 
 with his lacerated feelings to offer it. 
 
 Isaac had a sudden return of his sense of 
 guiltiness, and stood looking at his visitor with 
 mournful eyes. 
 
 " Joe," he said presently, in a low, husky 
 voice. 
 
 " Wot ? " came heavily and reluctantly from 
 the afflicted youth. 
 
 " Aw allis loiked thee, Joe." 
 
 But Joe heaved another deep sigh, and sadly 
 shook his head. 
 
 After another long silence, during which 
 Isaac stood at the far side of the table, now 
 shutting his eyes tightly as if in prayer, and now 
 looking earnestly from the fiddle to Joe, and 
 then from Joe to the fiddle again, he screwed 
 his body about as if thereby to force the words 
 out, and said in a voice the tremor of which 
 was more eloquent than any words — 
 
 " Aw've wuished mony a toime as thee an' me 
 wur bruthers, Joe." 
 
 Joe suddenly bent forward, and dropping his
 
 3i8 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 elbows on his knees, buried his head in his 
 hands and uttered an awful groan. 
 
 Isaac stood looking wistfully at him for a 
 moment or two, and then in a most pathetically 
 coaxing tone he said — 
 
 " Less be friends, Joe." 
 
 Joe shook his head in a wearily decided 
 manner, and heaved another sigh. 
 
 Isaac waited a little while, and then went on, 
 still more anxiously — 
 
 " Joe, if tha'll be friends, dust know wot Aw'll 
 dew ? " 
 
 Isaac evidently expected that curiosity, at 
 any rate, would make Joe speak, but he was 
 disappointed, for he only shook his head more 
 sadly and decidedly than ever. 
 
 " Aw'll gi* thi th' preciousest thing Aw hev' i' 
 th' wold, Joe." 
 
 Joe raised himself slowly up, and leaned back 
 in his chair, and partly because he felt he must 
 say something, and partly because curiosity 
 was, after all, beginning to assert itself within 
 him, he said, with exaggerated indifference and 
 melancholy — 
 
 " Dunna meyther me." 
 
 But Isaac was by this time desperate. He 
 had worked himself up to this point of excite- 
 ment, and felt that he must end it now or 
 never, and so, seizing his cherished instrument 
 and thrusting it feverishly into Joe's hands, 
 he cried —
 
 ISAAC'S FIDDLE 319 
 
 "Avv'll gi' thi me fid— fiddle, Joe," and the 
 poor fellow burst into a passion of tears — for it 
 was like parting with life itself. 
 
 Joe sat leaning back in his chair, and looking 
 at the joists above his head for quite a long 
 time. Then he suddenly rose to his feet, and 
 awkwardly thrusting out his hand, he stammered 
 in choking tones — 
 
 " Shak' hons, Isaac ! " 
 
 Anyone could see by the way it was done 
 that these two village lads had had little 
 practice in this form of salutation, but as they 
 stood together on that old sanded floor, in the 
 dim candle-light, gripping each other's hands 
 and looking into each other's eyes, they entered 
 silently into a bond which neither time nor trial 
 has been able to break. 
 
 " Aw winna tak' thi fiddle, lad," faltered Joe 
 with his hand still in Isaac's, " bud Aw'll tak' 
 thee. Ay, an' Aw'm suman' praad to tak' thi 
 tew. After wot tha's dun ta-neet. Aw dunna 
 wunder as Lizer loikes thi. Aw'm glad tha's 
 getten her — a — partly wot." 
 
 And in this strange interview this was the 
 only mention made of the subject of their 
 differences. And when, as Isaac saw his friend 
 home, they came unexpectedly upon Lizer, 
 and in the fulness of their hearts told her all 
 that had taken place, the bewitching little 
 besom called Joe a " lumpyed " in such a 
 delightful sort of way, and gave him such a tap
 
 320 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 on the cheek where any but a Lancashire 
 lass might have given him a kiss, that Joe, 
 when he left the courters, went home as 
 nearly reconciled to his fate as could well be 
 expected.
 
 The Harmonium 
 I 
 
 An Apple of Discord 
 
 21
 
 The Harmonium 
 I 
 
 An Apple of Discord 
 
 Jabe and Long Ben had been spending a week 
 at the seaside for the first time in their Hves. 
 Excursions of this nature were in those days 
 very rare amongst Beckside folk, and this 
 was brought about by Lige, the road-mender. 
 That worthy and his wife, now retired and 
 living comfortably in a little cottage near the 
 " Beck," had evidently determined to enjoy 
 themselves for the rest of their lives, and so 
 gave way to habits which occasioned their 
 friends much concern. 
 
 Amongst other questionable tendencies, they 
 grew fond of making little excursions abroad 
 on visits to friends and the like. 
 
 This was all very delightful to Lige him- 
 self, although he took his pleasure somewhat 
 fearfully. He was troubled on every new 
 adventure of the kind with painful misgivings
 
 324 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 as to the righteousness of such conduct, and 
 vainly attempted to square matters with his 
 plain-spoken conscience by extraordinary con- 
 tributions to the chapel collections. 
 
 When, therefore, Jane Ann had proposed to 
 him to go to " th' sayside," he had had a 
 somewhat painful struggle ; and, in fact, even 
 when he had got to the watering-place, and 
 was enjoying himself to the full, he had 
 moments of such painful self-reproach, that 
 he hit upon the ingenious expedient of trying 
 to persuade the grave heads of the church at 
 Becksideto join them in their dubious pleasure ; 
 and thus, by obtaining official sanction for his 
 frivolities, to relieve himself of at least some of 
 the responsibility for them. 
 
 And so Jane Ann, of whose penmanship 
 Lige was most inordinately proud, had written 
 a long letter, enlarging, not upon the worldly 
 attractions of the place, but upon the marvel- 
 lous eloquence of the preacher at the Methodist 
 Chapel, and the beauty of certain new tunes 
 which were being sung there, and closing with 
 a most urgent request that Lige's friends would 
 join them for a few days. 
 
 But Lige, uneasy and impatient though he 
 was, had to wait several days for a reply, for 
 so grave and altogether unusual a matter was 
 not to be settled all at once. 
 
 Seaside visitation was, according to Beckside 
 standards, a somewhat questionable practice.
 
 THE HARMONIUM 325 
 
 It savoured of pampering self-indulgence. It 
 was extravagant and worldly, and was 
 generally regarded as a sign of ostentation 
 and frivolity. It was some time, therefore, 
 before the two friends could find an excuse 
 for the journey which satisfied themselves and 
 those about them. What made it worse, Sam 
 Speck had not been invited, and he was very 
 stern and uncompromising in his maintenance 
 of the orthodox Beckside view of the case, 
 and came down upon any weak argument 
 advanced by Jabe or Ben in favour of the 
 excursion, or any such -like worldly vanities, 
 with unexampled fierceness, and contrived to 
 obtain the at any rate partial support of 
 Nathan, Jonas, Jethro, and the rest. 
 
 Sam's position was made the stronger by 
 the fact that both the Clogger and his friend 
 found themselves surprisingly inclined to accept 
 Lige's invitation, but were very much ashamed 
 at being so weak and frivolous. 
 
 At last, however, Sam went too far one night, 
 and so goaded the wavering Clogger, that he 
 suddenly arose from his seat and announced 
 his intention of going, whatever either Sam or 
 anybody else might say. 
 
 Of course, if Jabe went, Ben must go too; 
 and as Mrs. Ben rather encouraged the idea, 
 and Jabe's mode of settling the discussion 
 transferred the moral responsibility of the 
 whole expedition to the dogger's shoulders,
 
 326 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Ben plucked up courage, and away they 
 went. 
 
 When they arrived at their destination, they 
 were shocked to find Lige so evidently carried 
 away by his frivolous surroundings that he 
 met them at the station wearing a straw hat 
 and a thin alpaca jacket, and flourishing a 
 rakish - looking cane. And the light-hearted 
 manner in which their old friend walked them 
 into lodgings of awe-inspiring grandeur, as if 
 it were an everyday matter to him, quite took 
 their breath away. 
 
 Well, they had spent a busy and very happy 
 week, and, having got their faces most satis- 
 factorily tanned, were returning on the 'bus 
 from Duxbury to Beckside. 
 
 There was only room for one on the driver's 
 box, and the 'bus was kept standing several 
 minutes at the bottom of Station Road whilst 
 Jabe and his friend settled which of them 
 should occupy the coveted seat. Ordinarily, 
 neither of them would have cared to travel 
 outside, but on this occasion they were both of 
 one mind, and neither would give way for the 
 other — and neither would confess that the real 
 reason of this obstinacy was an intense desire 
 to catch the very first possible glimpse of dear 
 old Beckside. 
 
 As the reader will guess, Jabe was the 
 successful candidate for the outside berth ; and 
 Ben, when he got inside, went up to the far
 
 THE HARMONIUM 327 
 
 end of the vehicle and took his seat by the 
 window, in order to have the next best possible 
 view to Jabe's. 
 
 It was, perhaps, as well they were parted, 
 for as they drew near home, certain painful 
 misgivings began to exercise their minds. 
 What had happened to the dear old place in 
 their careless and unnecessary absence? They 
 were both sure they would find something 
 wrong. And only justly so, either. They 
 had been gadding about and seeing wonderful 
 things, and wickedly enjoying themselves with- 
 out stint, whilst the chapel had been left to 
 take care of itself— or what might turn out even 
 worse than that, to be managed by rash and 
 inexperienced hands. 
 
 It would not have greatly surprised Ben to 
 find his children all ill of fever, or his shop 
 burned down. And Jabe was by no means 
 sure that he should find the chapel where he 
 left it, and all right. Ah ! how wicked they 
 had been ! Why, the very evening of their 
 arrival at the watering - place, as they were 
 walking on the sands, Lige, the trifler, had 
 gaily challenged Long Ben to a game at 
 " Aunt Sally " ; and Jabe was convinced that, 
 but for his own indignant protest, Ben would 
 have accepted, and the world would have had 
 the scandalous spectacle of two pillars of the 
 church throwing sticks at a big, hideous-look- 
 ing wooden image with a pipe in its mouth.
 
 328 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 On the other hand, Jabe was very uneasy 
 lest Ben should, after all, know what he did 
 whilst Ben and Lige were having their photos 
 taken ; and the uneasy Clogger realised that he 
 would never be able to hold his head up in 
 Beckside again if it got out that he had had 
 his " bumps " felt by an itinerant phren- 
 ologist. 
 
 Neither of these men had ever been a week 
 out of Beckside in his life before, and as the 
 coach drew near the village they grew quite 
 nervous and apprehensive as to what might 
 have happened during their absence, their fears 
 being all intensified by the painful recollections 
 of the thoughtless and wicked gaiety in which 
 they had been indulging. 
 
 When the 'bus reached the top of the hill, and 
 was going down into the village, Jabe heaved a 
 great sigh, and Long Ben, with his nose flattened 
 against the coach window, had difficulty in 
 keeping back his tears. 
 
 And after all nothing had happened. The 
 chapel stood just where they had left it, and 
 looked bonnier than ever. The buzz of the 
 mill could be distinctly heard, and over that the 
 c-h-e-e-t, c-h-e-e-t of the saws from Ben's sawpit ; 
 and when the conveyance stopped, and Isaac, 
 Sam Speck, Nathan, and Jethro came rushing 
 out to meet them, overwhelming them with 
 questions and chaff about their sunburnt faces, 
 Jabe, standing off from the group, and looking
 
 THE HARMONIUM 329 
 
 round with unwonted seriousness on his face, 
 cried out — 
 
 " Th' sayside's reet enuff fur them as loikes it, 
 but Beckside's good enuff fur me." 
 
 And Long Ben, turning his back to the group 
 of friends, and looking very earnestly at the 
 mill chimney, whilst he vainly tried to straighten 
 a quivering face, responded — 
 
 " Ay, lad ; ther's noa place loike whoam, is 
 ther' ? " 
 
 Safe home again, both our friends felt inclined 
 to laugh at the fear that had spoilt the pleasure 
 of the return journey, but almost immediately 
 other thoughts began to trouble them. Jabe 
 wondered whether Ben really did know about 
 that phrenologist, and Ben felt himself going 
 red about the ears as he thought of the dreadful 
 possibility of Jabe blurting out the truth about 
 the " Aunt Sally." 
 
 These things were too shameful even to be 
 discussed by them, and so, though they had 
 abundant opportunity as they came home of 
 entering into a compact, neither of them had 
 ventured to suggest it to the other. Fortunately 
 Lige had stayed behind a little longer, and so 
 could not expose them ; but what if he came 
 home and in his garrulous way blurted out the 
 whole story ? 
 
 At the Clog Shop that night there was, of 
 course, a full assemblage, and as Jabe and Ben 
 described what they had seen, and marked the
 
 330 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 effect of it on the company present, they forgot 
 their pricks of conscience, and were very soon 
 on the best of terms both with themselves and 
 each other. 
 
 Jabe, of course, was the chief spokesman, and 
 he sat in his shirt-sleeves with a new long pipe 
 before him, smoking a wonderful brand of 
 tobacco to which Lige had introduced him, and 
 enlarging on all they had seen and heard. He 
 dismissed the ordinary attractions of the place 
 in a very summary manner, although Ben 
 confessed afterwards that he " fair crilled " as 
 Jabe mentioned "Aunt Sally" a second time. 
 And when Jabe paused for a moment to relight 
 his pipe, Ben seemed inclined to take up and 
 continue the story, for he drawled — 
 
 "An' ther' wur wun o' them — them bump- 
 feelin' chaps — an' " — 
 
 But here Jabe broke in with most unwonted 
 haste — 
 
 " Th' Ranters wur howdin' camp-meetin's upo' 
 th' sonds ; an' hay, wot singin' ! " 
 
 Having thus got the conversation into smooth 
 waters again, Jabe passed on to what he knew 
 would be more interesting to the company, and 
 described the big chapel they had attended, and 
 the preachers, and the music ; and the company 
 noted with interest that, instead of describing 
 the leaders of the music as the singers, he called 
 them the " kire," and even the singing-pew itself 
 was denominated the "horkester" — which were
 
 THE HARMONIUM 331 
 
 regarded as signs that even the sturdy ecclesi- 
 astical conservatism of Jabe had been relaxed 
 by his short sojourn abroad. 
 
 " Haa mony wur ther' i' th' band ? " asked 
 Jethro at this point. 
 
 " Band ? thaa lumpyed ; it wur a horgin." 
 
 Sam Speck, who, with the memory of his late 
 ill-treatment on his mind, had hitherto mani- 
 fested an ostentatiously supercilious indifference, 
 now suddenly woke up, and glancing significantly 
 at young Luke Yates, who sat near him, leaned 
 his head against the chimney, and winking 
 mysteriously at Jonas Tatlock, said quietly — 
 
 " Ay ! bands is gooin' aat o' fashion fur 
 chapils." 
 
 " Soa mitch wur fur th' chapils, then," retorted 
 Jabe with emphasis. 
 
 Sam and his friends glanced at each other 
 again, and the conversation seemed somehow to 
 have got stranded. 
 
 " We went to th' Independent Chapil i' th' 
 afternoon ; it wur th' Sarmons," — said Long Ben 
 at length, — "an' talk abaat singin' " — But Ben 
 could find no words in which to express his 
 admiration, and so he nodded with most elo- 
 quent suggestiveness at Jonas. 
 
 " Wur ther' a band theer ? " asked Sam, whose 
 mind seemed somehow to run very oddly on 
 this subject. 
 
 " Neaw ; ther' wur a harmonion." 
 
 Sam's eyes sparkled, and after turning and
 
 332 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 looking significantly over his shoulder at those 
 who sat nearest to him, he drew a long breath, 
 and asked quietly — 
 
 " An' th' music wur tiptop, thaa says ? " 
 
 " It wur that," replied the carpenter, putting 
 as much weight into his words as he could 
 make them carry. 
 
 Sam was conscious that Jabe was studying 
 him curiously, and so he moved restlessly in his 
 seat. Then, after a pause, he dropped his voice 
 somewhat, and remarked with a very awkward 
 attempt at indifference — 
 
 " That's wot we wanten here." 
 
 Ben opened his eyes a little, and then, looking 
 at Sam interrogatively, he asked — 
 
 " Uz ! wot dun we want ? " 
 
 Sam cast another look at those nearest to 
 him, and then, wincing as if in anticipation of a 
 blow, he said softly — 
 
 " A harmonion." 
 
 Everyone in the company shot a quick glance 
 at Jabe, and as quickly turned away again, 
 whilst the possessors of those eyes held their 
 breath as if anticipating an explosion. But the 
 Clogger neither moved nor spoke. His rugged 
 face became a shade sterner, but for any other 
 sign he gave he might never have heard Sam's 
 remark. 
 
 The silence that followed was most unpleasant, 
 and so, to relieve it. Long Ben looked across at 
 Sam, and asked —
 
 THE HARMONIUM 333 
 
 " Wot dun zvc want \vi' a harmonion ? " 
 
 Sam stole another quick glance at Jabe, whose 
 silence was more ominous than any speech, and 
 answered sulkily — 
 
 " Well, we dew. Th' Clough Enders hez wun, 
 an' th' Brogdeners hez wun, and they'n tew at 
 Duxbury Schoo'." 
 
 Sam sat like a naughty boy expecting a box 
 on the ear. And the rest of the company stole 
 shy, quick glances at the Clogger, whose silence 
 under these conditions was a sort of slow 
 torture. Presently Ben went on — 
 
 "Dust know what harmonious cosses?" 
 (costs). 
 
 " Cosses ? Ay ! " replied the now desperate 
 Sam. " We can hev a gradely good un wi' six 
 stops in fur ten paand, an' Jimmy Juddy saj-s 
 he'll gi' tew towart it." 
 
 Then two or three others added details, and 
 for the next few minutes they talked eagerly, 
 but somewhat nervously, on the subject, evi- 
 dently unconscious of the fact that in every word 
 uttered they were betraying themselves to the 
 silent and inscrutable Clogger. 
 
 In the discussion thus initiated, it gradually 
 became clear that, immediately after the de- 
 parture of Jabe and Ben for " th' sayside," Sam 
 and Luke Yates had begun to carry out a long- 
 cherished plan of agitating for a modern musical 
 instrument for the chapel. The suggestion had 
 met with more encouragement than they had
 
 334 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 expected — Jethro, the knocker-up, being their 
 only serious opponent ; and, as he was not of 
 much account, and was clearly prejudiced, they 
 had, by the time the two excursionists returned, 
 nearly perfected their scheme. 
 
 Amongst other things, they had got a lot of 
 tentative promises that nearly covered the pro- 
 posed outlay, and an illustrated price-list of 
 very attractive looking instruments. 
 
 At this point, Sam produced from his pocket 
 a gorgeous catalogue, with one of the leaves 
 carefully turned down, and, opening the book at 
 this particular page, he looked anxiously round 
 for someone to whom to present it. 
 
 But, though they had all examined it several 
 times a day for the last few days, they seemed 
 to have suddenly lost all interest in the matter, 
 and shrank from accepting Sam's offer under 
 the stern eye of the terrible Clogger. Sam bent 
 forward and nervously thrust the catalogue 
 towards Long Ben, but that worthy looked 
 straight before him and absolutely ignored the 
 document. Sam was visibly agitated, and would 
 gladly have put the list back in his pocket, but 
 he either could not or dared not, and so he held 
 it out hesitantly and looked at it a long time, 
 conscious that everyone was watching him, and 
 finally, making a desperate effort, he got up, 
 strode across to where Jabe was sitting, and, 
 pointing with his finger at a picture of a very 
 imposing looking instrument, he cried —
 
 THE HARMONIUM 335 
 
 " That's it, sithi. Wee'st ha' sum music when 
 we getten that." 
 
 Jabe was sitting with his short leg flung 
 carelessly over the other against the opposite 
 side of the chimney-jamb, and to everybody's 
 surprise he put out his hand, and in a listless, 
 indolent fashion took hold of the catalogue and 
 glanced at the indicated picture. 
 
 Then, still holding the list between his thumb 
 and finger, he lolled back lazily, and fixing his 
 eye on a thick cobweb in the corner of a walled- 
 up side window, he said, with a slow impressive 
 shake of the head — 
 
 " Aw'll tell yo' wot, chaps ; we liven i' wunder- 
 ful toimes." 
 
 Everybody was surprised and mystified, and 
 whilst one or two of the conspirators began to 
 show an inclination to hopefulness, the more 
 experienced hung their heads apprehensively. 
 
 Nobody replied to Jabe's enigmatical remark, 
 and so in a moment or two he shook his head 
 more seriously than ever, and still contemplating 
 the cobweb, added — 
 
 " Wunderful toimes." 
 
 But, even then, nobody responded, and the 
 older ones present glanced pityingly at Sam. 
 
 " Iverything's dun by machinery naa-a-days," 
 continued Jabe, putting on a look of carefully 
 simulated wonder. " We'en spinnin' machines, 
 an' weyvin' machines, an' sewin' machines, an' 
 weshin' machines, an' naa, bi th' ferrups, we'en
 
 336 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 getten zvarsliippiri machines," — and absorbed 
 with the contemplation of all these modern 
 marvels, Jabe stared at the cobweb in rapt 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Machines?" began Sam indignantly, but two 
 or three put out their hands and checked him, 
 whilst the Clogger, still gazing at the spider's 
 habitation, went on with slow and painful 
 deliberateness — 
 
 " Wee'st ha' prayin' machines an' preichin' 
 machines next. Naa, if nobbut some handy 
 chap 'ud mak' a machine fur turnin' sawft 
 gawmliss bluffinyeds inta gradely felleys, Aw'd 
 bey wun mysel'. Ther'd be plenty o' wark fur 
 it i' Beckside." 
 
 There was a sudden sputter of half-amused, 
 half-angry laughter, which relieved the tension 
 somewhat. Two or three slily drew the backs 
 of their hands across their mouths as if they had 
 just tasted something enjoyable but forbidden, 
 and Sam was lifting his head to reply, when 
 Jabe went on once more in a humorously 
 sarcastic tone — 
 
 " A harmonion, eh ? We'd better send for 
 lame Joe, an' start a concerteena band, or else 
 a singin'-pew full o' lads wi' tin VN-histles an' 
 Jews' harps." 
 
 Sam Speck, goaded to desperation, set his 
 teeth, and, clenching his fist, brought it down 
 heavily on the bench before him, crying in 
 indignant an<7er —
 
 THE HARMONIUM 337 
 
 " Well, we'en getten th' brass, an' wee'st ha' 
 wun, chuse wot thaa says." 
 
 Jabe's face became suddenly very stern. The 
 amused, contemptuous look upon it vanished, 
 and, pursing his lips, and drawing together his 
 brows, he said, with slow weighty emphasis — 
 
 " As lung as ther's a fiddle-string i' Beckside, 
 or a felley as can start a chune [tune], ther'll be 
 noa harmonion i' aar chapil." 
 
 The countenances of Sam's supporters dropped 
 visibly, and a glint of unholy fire shot into 
 several eyes, and as Long Ben noted this he 
 chimed in soothingly — 
 
 "We met use it fur th' schoo', thaa knows. 
 We'en bin rayther hard up sometimes lattly." 
 
 But the possibility of Ben's defection from his 
 side roused Jabe, and so, jumping to his feet, he 
 shouted in his excitement — 
 
 " Ther'll be noa barril-orgins — baat handle — i' 
 that schoo' woll Aw'm alive," and then, after a 
 pause — " Neaw, an' if yo' getten wun efther 
 Aw'm gooan, bi th' mon' yXw'U cum back ta yo'." 
 
 As Jabe sank back into his seat, glaring 
 relentless resolution all around, a spirit of sulky 
 depression seemed to fall on the company ; and 
 what should have been a highly enjoyable even- 
 ing proved so disappointing, that the friends 
 began to depart quite early, whilst those who 
 remained looked more and more dismal. 
 
 Scarcely had the last man except Ben departed 
 when Jabe rose to his feet, and, glaring at the 
 
 22
 
 0J« 
 
 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 companion of his recent jaunt, he cried in bitter 
 distress — 
 
 " This is wot comes o' thi sayside maanti- 
 bankin'. Didn't Aw tell thi haa it 'ud be?" 
 And then, sinking into his seat again with a 
 face all a-work, he cried with added bitterness — 
 
 " Aw wuish th' sayside 'uJ bin at Jericho, 
 Aw dew, fur shure." 
 
 Now, as Ben had gone to the watering-place 
 quite as much because he thought Jabe wanted 
 to go, but would not go alone, as because he 
 fancied the excursion himself, and as all the 
 warnings and misgivings had been uttered by 
 himself, as far as he could remember, and had 
 been received by his friend with fine scorn, he 
 was somewhat surprised to have this charge 
 hurled at him, but he knew his man too well 
 to reply just then. And so, after sitting and 
 smoking in silence for a long time, he said 
 soothingly — 
 
 " Ne'er moind, lad ; ther'll be noa harmonions 
 i' heaven." 
 
 " Neaw, nor saysides noather," grunted Jabe.
 
 The Harmonium 
 II 
 
 The Trustees' Meeting 
 
 330
 
 The Harmonium 
 II 
 
 The Trustees' Meeting 
 
 It is perhaps necessary to explain that the 
 musical service at the Beckside Chapel was 
 conducted on rather free-and-easy principles. 
 The choir was a fairly stable quantity, but the 
 instrumental part of the service was somewhat 
 carelessly managed. To begin with, there was 
 only room for about four instruments in the 
 singing-pew, and as Nathan's " 'cello " was re- 
 garded as indispensable, it only left three places 
 for all the rest. These places were filled by any 
 members of the band who took it into their 
 heads to attend and bring their instruments — as 
 far, at any rate, as the limited accommodation 
 would allow. Jonas Tatlock always kept his 
 violin at chapel to be ready for those odd 
 occasions when no other fiddler turned up, but 
 the music of this instrument was usually pro- 
 vided by Jimmy Juddy, or Isaac the apprentice, 
 
 341
 
 342 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 or both. The " 'cello " and the two violins were 
 regarded as all that were absolutely necessary 
 for an ordinary service, but on Sunday evenings, 
 and on all special occasions, the instruments 
 would be reinforced by an additional " 'cello," 
 Peter Twist's clarinet, and occasionally by a 
 double bass, or even Jethro's trombone. 
 
 When, therefore, on the very Saturday night 
 that Jabe and his friend departed for the seaside, 
 Sam Speck sprang upon the company assembled 
 at the Clog Shop his revolutionary proposal to 
 introduce a harmonium into the chapel, all the 
 instrumentalists regarded it as a direct attack 
 upon their order, and resented it accordingly. 
 
 " If we getten a harmonion ther'll be noa 
 raam fur fiddles," objected Jimmy Juddy, to}'ing 
 with one of Jabe's hammers. 
 
 " Fiddles, thaa lumpyed ! wee'st want noa 
 fiddles when we getten a harmonion," said 
 Sam, looking pityingly on Jimmy for his lack 
 of comprehension. 
 
 " Dust meean ta say as if th' harmonion gooas 
 in aw th' t'other instriments 'uU ha' ta cum aat ? " 
 demanded Jethro in painful surprise. 
 
 " Ay, fur shure ! Wot else ? " 
 
 Now, up to this point there had been a dis- 
 position to at any rate give the question a fair 
 hearing, but now, seeing that, like Othello's, 
 their occupation would be gone, those in the 
 company who were accustomed to play in the 
 chapel at once went over to the opposition.
 
 THE HARMONIUM 343 
 
 One or two, however, found their positions 
 somewhat difficult. Jonas, for instance, who, 
 as leader of both band and choir, was an 
 important person, whilst conscious of a desire 
 to experiment with a new instrument, felt that 
 his own beloved fiddle would be displaced, and 
 that his protege and future son-in-law, Isaac, 
 would be reduced to the rank of an unimportant 
 private member, and so he wavered, and with 
 him were Jimmy Juddy and one or two others. 
 
 On the other hand, Jethro, the knocker-up, in 
 the absence of his great leader, maintained a 
 fierce and uncompromising opposition, and so 
 it happened that far into that night the Clog 
 Shop resounded with the noise of argumentative 
 battle, and on the very Sunday when Jabe and 
 Long Ben were luxuriating in the clover of 
 grand preaching and grander singing, the church 
 they had left behind was agitated with conflict. 
 
 All through the following week the battle 
 had continued, and consequently, on their return, 
 the Clogger and his friend found the society 
 divided into two compact and fiercely belligerent 
 parties, Sam Speck's being numerically and 
 forensically the stronger, and Jethro's making 
 up in obstinacy what it lacked in numbers and 
 logic. 
 
 The return of the two excursionists meant, 
 of course, a sudden accession of strength to 
 the weaker party, and on the Sunday night 
 after their arrival the Clog Shop parlour was
 
 344 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the scene of one of the fiercest word-battles that 
 even it had ever known. 
 
 Jabe had no great difficulty with his revolted 
 lieutenant Sam. It was comparatively easy 
 by characteristic torrents of raillery and satire 
 to silence him. But there was a new combatant 
 in the field on this particular night — no less a 
 person, in fact, than Ben's son-in-law, Luke 
 Yates. And the cool, adroit, and aggravatingly 
 polite style of this young man's arguments 
 provoked the irate Clogger almost beyond 
 endurance. The fiercer and more boisterous 
 Jabe became in argument, the quieter and more 
 conciliatory were Luke's replies, so that the 
 Clogger was angered, not only by the cogency 
 of Luke's reasoning, but also by the conscious- 
 ness that his own methods were clumsy in com- 
 parison, and that his favourite weapon of abuse 
 was grossly unfair. 
 
 Every now and again during the debate Long 
 Ben would interject some softening remark, 
 which, though exactly what everybody expected 
 of him, seemed on this occasion to be unusually 
 irritating to his friend ; the truth being that 
 Jabe felt that the arguments which were steadily 
 undermining his own position would be sure to 
 be producing the same effect on Ben's mind, 
 and he knew only too well that eventually Ben 
 would go over to the other side if only in the 
 interests of peace. Moreover, Luke was Ben's 
 son-in-law, and Jabe felt that Ben's pride in the
 
 THE HARMONIUM 345 
 
 young man's debating power would lay him 
 open to easy conviction. 
 
 Besides all this, Jabe, as the conflict continued, 
 began to have an uneasy feeling that more was 
 involved in the dispute than the question of 
 the harmonium, and he found himself struggling 
 with a consciousness that this was the first 
 indication that the day of his absolute reign in 
 the Beckside Church was over, and that in Luke 
 Yates the Methodist people would before very 
 long recognise a leader more suited to modern 
 ideas, and, withal, altogether more capable than 
 himself The Clogger, therefore, rallied all his 
 resources. Abuse, scorn, satire, and threatenings 
 were all employed without measure or mercy ; 
 and when these failed, he fell back on inscrutable 
 and obstinate silence, and pretended to regard 
 the harmonium agitation as the offspring of 
 feather-brained and utterly worthless individuals, 
 of whom no serious notice need be taken. 
 
 But as time passed, Jabe gradually discovered 
 that he was more alone in this matter than he 
 had expected to be. The doctor and his wife 
 were both in favour of the new instrument, the 
 erstwhile schoolmistress, in fact, having gone so 
 far as to promise to play it when it was intro- 
 duced into the chapel. The young people of 
 the Society were all enthusiastic about it, and 
 even such staunch supporters of old-established 
 ways as Aunt Judy and Long Ben wavered 
 most disgracefully.
 
 346 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 On Thursday, Lige returned, and though, as 
 a rule, the Clogger had no great respect for the 
 old road-mender's judgment, yet in his present 
 circumstances he was glad of the slightest 
 support, and looked quite eagerly for Lige's 
 arrival. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! Before he had even seen Lige, 
 or had had the least opportunity of sounding 
 him on the question, he received the disheart- 
 ening intelligence that his old friend was an 
 enthusiastic supporter of the popular proposal. 
 
 Jabe had one hope left. The " super " would, 
 of course, support him in his defence of estab- 
 lished institutions, and as that gentleman 
 was to preach at Beckside on the following 
 Sunday, and was appointed to be entertained at 
 the Clog Shop, the Clogger comforted himself 
 with the hope that help was at hand, and that 
 the representative of law and authority would 
 stand firmly by him. 
 
 But, somehow, when the super came, Jabe 
 could not for the life of him introduce the sub- 
 ject, and the minister, who, unknown to our old 
 friend, had been fully enlightened as to the state 
 of affairs, was almost as anxious to hear as Jabe 
 was to speak. But although during the day 
 they discussed every possible subject concerning 
 the chapel, and the super deftly led up to 
 musical matters several times, Jabe always 
 avoided them, and the evening service was over 
 and the minister was finishing his supper in the
 
 THE HARMONIUM 347 
 
 Clog Shop parlour before the subject he had 
 been waiting for all day was introduced. 
 
 The other occupants of the parlour were Long 
 Ben, Lige, and Jethro, but even now the Clogger 
 seemed to have no intention of introducing the 
 subject which was uppermost in everybody's 
 mind. 
 
 " Han yo' yerd abaat th' bother as we han 
 here, Mestur Shuper," asked Ben hesitantly, 
 tilting back his chair, and puffing out a huge 
 mouthful of smoke. 
 
 " Bother ? Bother at Beckside ! I hope not," 
 replied the minister evasively, but with a 
 sufficiently passable show of surprise to hood- 
 wink the listeners. 
 
 " Ay ! " cried the Clogger contemptuously, 
 but with a nervous little laugh ; " a storm in a 
 tay-pot, sure//." 
 
 " A bother ? A storm ? What is the matter ? " 
 asked the super, putting on an even greater look 
 of astonishment. 
 
 " Dunna meyther," replied Jabe, with an im- 
 patient jerk of the head, whilst his demonstra- 
 tive leg began to rock excitedly over the other, 
 " it's nobbut childer wark." 
 
 " Childer wark ? It's babby wark," cried Jethro, 
 leaning forward, and putting out his chin with a 
 grim, pugnacious expression which looked very 
 strange on his gentle old face. 
 
 " Ay ! but wot Aw want ta know is which is 
 th' babbies?" retorted Ligc doggedly.
 
 34$ BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Gently, gentlemen, gently ! " said the 
 minister. " Someone tell me what is the 
 matter, please." 
 
 " Matter? " cried Jabe, rising to his feet in his 
 excitement, and holding his pipe away from him 
 in one hand, whilst he gesticulated tragically 
 with the other, "ther's a lot o' gawmliss young 
 wastrils, just aat o' petticuts, an' they wanten ta 
 rule th' church ; that's wot's th' matter." 
 
 An exclamation of dissent escaped Long Ben, 
 and Lige and Jethro both rose to their feet, and 
 began to talk excitedly. 
 
 The super, putting out his hands, cried, " Sit 
 down, gentlemen, please. Now, Mr. Jabez, what 
 7s the matter ? " 
 
 "Matter?" shouted Jabe, rising to his feet 
 again, in spite of the minister's injunction. " Mun 
 Aw ax yo' wun queshten ? " 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " 
 
 " Han' yo' iver yerd better music i' ony chapil 
 yo'n iver been in, nor wot yo' yer when yo' cum 
 ta Beckside? Tell me that." 
 
 " It is very good ; very good," answered the 
 super diplomatically. 
 
 " Well, then, wot 'ud aar music be baat fiddles 
 an' 'cellos ? " 
 
 " Ah ! indeed ! " still more cautiously. 
 
 " Well ! " and here he drew himself up to his 
 full height, and stepping back to get more room 
 for the sweep of his gesticulating arm, shouted 
 more excitedly than ever, " they wanten aw
 
 THE HARMONIUM 349 
 
 them grand owd instriments turnin' aat, ta mak' 
 room fur a yowling, squawking buzz-box as they 
 cawn a H-A-R-M-0-N-l-o-N," and putting all the 
 scorn that was in him into his pronunciation of 
 the name of the object of his indignation, Jabe 
 sank into his seat exhausted by his effort. 
 
 It was fully five minutes before the super could 
 get a word in again, for Lige, roused by the 
 dogger's attack, began pouring out his wrath 
 upon " owd - fashioned stick-i'-th'-muds " until 
 Jethro was provoked to make an unusually fierce 
 reply for him, and Long Ben felt constrained to 
 get up and stand between them for fear of worse 
 happening. 
 
 At last, however, the combatants paused for 
 breath, and the super said conciliatorily — 
 
 " But harmoniums are very useful instruments, 
 you know, Mr. Jabez, and quite fashionable now- 
 adays." 
 
 " Fashionable ! " began Jabe, with curling lip ; 
 but before he could get any further, Jethro 
 stepped up to the super, and touching him 
 challengingly on the shoulder, demanded — 
 
 " Is ther' ony harmonions mentioned i' th' 
 Bible? Tell me that." 
 
 " No ; and, for that matter, fiddles are not " — 
 
 " No fiddles ? Wot does stringed instri- 
 ments meean, if it doesn't meean fiddles ? Tell 
 me that naa ? " 
 
 Now, during the preceding week, the super 
 had received a respectful and courteously-
 
 350 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 worded note from Luke Yates, informing him 
 that some of the friends at Beckside wished to 
 present a harmonium to the chapel, and asking 
 to be informed if the trustees would accept of 
 such a gift ; and, with this in his pocket, and the 
 evidences of strong feeling before his eyes, he 
 scarcely knew what to do. 
 
 At last, however, seeing no chance of rational 
 discussion, he suggested — 
 
 " Well, this is a matter for the trustees, you 
 know ; shall I call a meeting of the Trust ? " 
 
 Long Ben shook his head, and sighed. Lige 
 eagerly approved, and Jethro as eagerly opposed. 
 In this dilemma the super turned to Jabe, who 
 was sitting back in his chair, sulkily nursing his 
 short leg. 
 
 " Yo' can caw as mony as yo'n a moind," he 
 replied, " an' we can pleease aarsel's whether we 
 goa or not." 
 
 " Well, perhaps, it will be better to have one, 
 and thresh the matter out," and with that the 
 super rose to go, and Jabe, who had of late fallen 
 into the habit of seeing the minister a little way 
 on his journey, sat obstinately in his chair and 
 stared hard at the joists above his head. 
 
 It was nearly three weeks before the meeting 
 could be held, and during that time the relation- 
 ships existing between the chief actors in this 
 little drama were somewhat severely strained, 
 and many and long were the word-battles that 
 were fought.
 
 THE HARMONIUM 351 
 
 The night of the meeting proved to be soaking 
 wet, and consequently no trustees from a distance 
 attended, and this terrible question was therefore 
 left to be settled by the men on the spot. 
 
 For two or three days previously Sam Speck 
 had been " drawin' in his horns," as Jethro 
 termed it, and had made great efforts to come 
 to an understanding with his deserted leader, 
 but all to no purpose. On any other subject 
 Jabe would talk with something approaching his 
 old familiarity, but immediately the harmonium 
 was mentioned he closed up like an oyster, put 
 on a look of impenetrable mystery, and would 
 not utter a single word. 
 
 Long Ben, too, had tried to bring about some 
 sort of a compromise, but as he had not given 
 his friend that whole-hearted support which Jabe 
 thought he had a right to expect, the Clogger 
 kept him resolutely at arm's-length. 
 
 All the local trustees except one were present 
 in the vestry some minutes before the meeting 
 began, and when the super arrived and looked 
 round the room he saw at a glance how the 
 matter was likely to be settled. 
 
 Jabe and Jethro represented the full strength 
 of the " Noes " ; Sam Speck and Nathan the 
 "Ayes" ; whilst Long Ben and Jonas, sitting close 
 together, represented the "cross-bench mind," 
 but with strong leanings towards Sam's party. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Speck," said the minister, after the 
 meeting had been formally opened, " you have
 
 352 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 this matter in hand, I suppose ; let us hear what 
 you have to propose." 
 
 Sam, with many a halt and many a bungle, 
 and many nervous glances at his great opponent, 
 expounded his scheme in detail, and finished 
 by informing the meeting that the money to 
 purchase the instrument was ready as soon as 
 the trustees would accept it. 
 
 Then Long Ben gently suggested that the 
 matter be deferred until after " th' next Sarmons," 
 but, though Jabe neither moved nor spoke, the 
 rest signified that they preferred an immediate 
 settlement of the question. 
 
 Then as Jabe, in spite of nods and winks 
 from Jonas opposite, and hard nudges from the 
 knocker-up at his side, would not speak, Jethro, 
 who was boiling over with excitement, made a 
 long, rambling, but fairly complete statement 
 of the case for the opposition, and was just 
 finishing with an appeal that threatened to 
 become pathetic, to " stick ta th' good owd 
 ways," when the door opened, and in walked 
 Lige. 
 
 Somehow the road-mender's appearance just 
 at this stage of the proceedings brought a 
 sudden check to the discussion. There was no 
 use in further argument. The case was settled, 
 for Lige was more unswerving in his advocacy 
 of the new instrument than Sam himself. 
 
 " Aar clock's slow," he said, in answer to the 
 pulling out of two or three big verge watches,
 
 THE HARMONIUM 353 
 
 And then there was a short pause, and, after 
 waiting a moment or two, the super turned 
 round in his chair, and looking at the Clogger, 
 said — 
 
 " Now, Mr. Jabez, what do you think about 
 the matter? " 
 
 Jabe, whose active leg was the only thing 
 that moved about him, sat with his head tilted 
 back against the wall and his eyes on the ceiling, 
 and, as the super's question reached him, he 
 jerked out — " Yo' known," and then was dumb 
 again. 
 
 Every attempt on the part of the minister 
 to provoke discussion failed, and a most 
 uncomfortable feeling pervaded the whole 
 meeting. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said the minister at last, 
 " we must get on. Will somebody move a 
 resolution ? " 
 
 After another long pause, Lige jerked out — 
 
 " Ay ! Aw'll pro-poase it." 
 
 " But what will you propose ? " 
 
 " As we han a harmonion." 
 
 "That is, that we accept the offer of Mr. 
 Speck and others to present a harmonium to 
 the chapel." 
 
 " Ay ! " 
 
 " Anyone second this ? " 
 
 A pause longer than ever followed, but at 
 last Nathan said timidly — 
 
 "Aw'll second it." 
 
 23
 
 354 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Has anyone anything to say before the 
 resolution is put? " 
 
 Still nobody spoke, and the super was just 
 proceeding to take the fateful vote when Long 
 Ben jumped excitedly to his feet, and looking 
 across at Jabe, cried, with a pathetic break in 
 his voice — 
 
 " Speik, mon, wilta ? " 
 
 But the Clogger sat like a statue — silent, 
 sphinx-like, inexorable. 
 
 Just then a new thought seemed to strike the 
 perplexed super, and looking round, he asked — 
 
 " Why shouldn't you have both kinds of 
 instruments, gentlemen ? It doesn't follow that 
 because you have a harmonium you can't have 
 the others too, if you like." 
 
 Light seemed to break across the faces of 
 the two waverers, Ben and Jonas, and after 
 looking at the super to make sure that they had 
 heard aright, Ben asked — 
 
 " Whey, will they goa togather ? " 
 
 " Of course they will ; and one will help and 
 improve the other," was the reply. 
 
 This seemed to have a decisive effect on Ben 
 and his companion, and Jonas said somewhat 
 eagerly — 
 
 " Tak' th' vooate then." 
 
 The super hesitated, and turned once more 
 to look at Jabe, but his face was as relentless as 
 •ever. And so the resolution was put. Every- 
 body voted for it except Jabe and Jethro, and
 
 THE HARMONIUM 355 
 
 when the super announced the result, Ben heaved 
 a great sigh, glanced wistfully at Jabe, and 
 sighed again. 
 
 Some arrangements having been made for 
 the immediate introduction of the new instru- 
 ment, the meeting broke up, and a group of 
 very serious-looking men made their way along 
 the side of the chapel to the road in front. 
 Jabe was leading the procession, and as he 
 reached the road he suddenly turned round, 
 and looking earnestly at the chapel, said in a 
 dry, choking voice — 
 
 " Th' day as a harmonion goas inta that 
 chapil, Jabez Longworth comes aat on it for 
 iver." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, he limped 
 rapidly off home ; and although he had ordered 
 Isaac to have the fire lighted before he came 
 back in preparation for the usual evening's 
 conversation, nobody joined him, and for almost 
 the only occasion of its kind in his life Jabe sat 
 the evening out in the inglenook absolutely 
 alone.
 
 The Harmonium 
 III 
 
 The Angels' Song 
 
 357
 
 The Harmonium 
 III 
 
 The Angels' Song 
 
 Now that they had gained their victory, the 
 advocates of the new harmonium seemed 
 strangely slow in accomplishing their purpose ; 
 and those who had voted at the memorable 
 Trustees' Meeting not only rebuked all attempts 
 at congratulation, but showed a most remark- 
 able testiness on the subject, and could only be 
 induced to discuss it when absolutely necessary. 
 
 Several earnest attempts were also made to 
 bring the Clogger to a better mind, and the date 
 of the introduction of the new instrument was 
 deferred again and again. 
 
 Meanwhile Jabe maintained a dignified 
 silence on the matter, and when compelled to 
 allude to it he did so in the fewest possible 
 words ; and it was noted as an ominous sign 
 that instead of being explosive and vehement, 
 his remarks sounded sad and resigned. But 
 
 353
 
 360 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 when, in their desire to win him over, anyone 
 actually compelled him to show his mind, it 
 was found that he remained solidly and stub- 
 bornly obstinate. 
 
 After several postponements, therefore, it was 
 felt that the matter could no longer be delayed, 
 and Long Ben reluctantly consented to go and 
 examine the singing-pew to see what would be 
 required in the way of structural alterations in 
 order to accommodate the coming instrument. 
 
 But although Sam Speck and Lige were both 
 there next morning to assist him, the carpenter 
 did not turn up, and when they went down to 
 the shop in search of him, nobody knew where 
 he was. 
 
 Another and yet another appointment had to 
 be made, and it v.-as only on the third occasion 
 that Ben presented hiniself 
 
 And when he did come, he seemed very half- 
 hearted about the matter, and but for Sam's 
 persistence he would have gone away again 
 without settling anything. 
 
 By dint of much pressure and prom.pting, 
 however, they at length got him to work, but 
 even then he was provokingly absent-minded. 
 He measured the place that would have to be 
 cleared to make room for the harm.onium three 
 times, and then if Sam had not taken down the 
 measurements they would have been no further 
 on with their business. After looking ab- 
 stractedly around, and vainly trying to start
 
 THE HARMONIUM 361 
 
 discussions on other matters, Ben began 
 absently to measure again. 
 
 " Wot th' ferrups arta doin' ? " cried Sam, in 
 vexed surprise. 
 
 Ben stopped, looked inquiringly at Sam for 
 a moment, discovered what he had done, and 
 then, turning round with an impatient gesture, 
 cried — 
 
 " Confaand th' harmonion ! Aw wuish Owd 
 Scratch hed it." 
 
 And as Sam stared at him in indignant 
 astonishment, he cried — 
 
 " Yo'll ha' ta dew this job baat me. My hert 
 aches. Aw th' harmonions as iver wur made 
 isna as mitch ta me as yond' owd chap i' th' 
 Clug Shop," and choking back a sob, he gave 
 another gesture of repudiation, and walked 
 hurriedly out of the chapel. 
 
 Lige also showed great uneasiness. In one 
 of the earlier discussions on the now painful 
 subject Jabe had dropped a remark which 
 showed that he regarded all this trouble as the 
 result of their " gallivantin' at th' sayside," and, 
 as the road-mender knew that he was primarily 
 responsible for this, it gave him great unrest. 
 
 Jonas Tatlock went even further, and openly 
 recanted, and would have had the subject 
 dropped ; and one or two others gradually lost 
 all interest in the affair, only Sam and Luke 
 Yates keeping up even a show of enthusiasm. 
 
 Then the conscience-smitten conspirators dis-
 
 362 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 covered, or thought they discovered, that Jabe 
 was not looking well, and it was confidently 
 stated that he was fretting. As if to confirm 
 this, it was made known in the village one 
 Saturday that Jabe was in bed with a bad cold. 
 And everybody knew it must be a bad cold 
 indeed to have kept the Clogger in his room. 
 
 Then the cold developed into a sore throat, 
 and the sore throat into a quinsy, and Aunt 
 Judy, on guard, refused to allow even his closest 
 friends to see him, lest he should talk and thus 
 make matters worse. 
 
 This illness spread dismay in the ranks of 
 Jabe's opponents. Even some of the younger 
 folk seemed anxious to disown any desire for 
 the unfortunate harmonium, and Jethro went 
 about declaring — 
 
 "If yond' owd chap dees, Aw'll smash th' 
 harmonion wi' my knockin'-up stick," whilst 
 others prophesied that the instrument would 
 never get into the chapel after all. 
 
 Sam Speck, however, still held out, and so, 
 apparently, did Luke Yates, the latter, in fact, 
 being strengthened in his persistence by the 
 support of his gentle young wife, who was 
 passionately fond of music. The contract for 
 the necessary alterations in the singing-pew-had 
 been given, on Ben's defection, to Tommy o' th' 
 Top, a Clough End carpenter; and one evening 
 when Luke went home to Beckbottom, and 
 was sitting over his " baggin'," Leah, who had
 
 THE HARMONIUM 363 
 
 taken her chair near the door, and was sewing 
 something she seemed afraid of being seen by 
 her teasing husband, said — 
 
 "Aw seed 'Tommy o' th' Top' goa past ta- 
 day. Wur he goin' to th' chapel, dust think ? " 
 
 " Aw noather knaaw nor cur," answered Luke 
 rather gruffly. 
 
 *' Luke, wotiver's ta dew wi' thi ? Dustna 
 want th' harmonion ? " 
 
 " Aw wuish th' harmonion wur smashed ta 
 flinders." 
 
 " Luke ! " 
 
 " Aw dew ; it's makkin' me fair badly, an' 
 if owt happens ta yond' owd chap" — But 
 Luke got up hastily, and hurried into the 
 back kitchen, and Leah heard a great deal of 
 mysterious coughing and throat-clearing before 
 he came back again. 
 
 A day or two later, however, it was known 
 that Jabe's quinsy had burst, and that all 
 immediate danger was over. Three days later 
 Aunt Judy called at Ben's shop, and announced 
 that Jabe wanted to see the carpenter, and in a 
 moment or two Ben was striding away as fast 
 as his long legs would carry him towards the 
 Clog Shop. Passing through the shop, he paused 
 at the parlour door, and gently opened it. 
 
 "Is that thee, Ben?" came in feeble tones 
 from the parlour. 
 
 " Ay, lad. Mun Aw come in ? " 
 
 " Ay."
 
 364 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And Ben found his old friend propped up in 
 the bed with a huge comforter round his neck, 
 a Paisley shawl upon his shoulders, and a red- 
 tasselled nightcap on his head. 
 
 As he caught sight of the carpenter, he put 
 out his hand, and gripping Ben's big palm 
 tightly, he cried, whilst a big tear stood in the 
 corner of his eye — 
 
 " Hay, lad ! Aw'm faiii ta see thi," 
 
 " An' Aw'm fain ta see thee, owd lad ; God 
 b-1-e-s-s thi ! " and the two shook hands, with a 
 long clinging clasp, and gazed eagerly into each 
 other's eyes. 
 
 After a while Ben began to tell his friend all 
 the news he could think of, carefully avoiding, 
 of course, the forbidden subject. 
 
 But Jabe seemed very apathetic about matters, 
 and had an absent, far-away look that alarmed 
 Ben most seriously. 
 
 " Sit thi daan, lad," he said at length ; " Aw've 
 summat to tell thi." 
 
 Ben did as he was bidden, and then Jabe 
 wiped his face with his big red pocket-handker- 
 chief, and began in tones so serious as to greatly 
 distress his friend. 
 
 " Ben, lad, Aw've hed a dreeam." 
 
 " A dreeam ? " 
 
 " Ay ! an' Aw'st ne'er forget it as lung as 
 Aw'm wik. Ben, Aw've been i' heaven." 
 
 Ben didn't like this at all ; people who dreamed 
 of heaven — But Jabe was proceeding —
 
 THE HARMONIUM 365 
 
 " Hay, lad ! but it wur a graand place ! Ther' 
 wur gardins and flaars an' hangils, and aw mak' 
 o' graand things. An', Ben," — and here Jabe 
 dropped his voice into a solemn whisper, — " Aw 
 seed Him. Aw did ! Aw seed Him. Hay, it 
 wur glorious ; " and, overcome with the memory, 
 Jabe sat looking before him with a rapt face, as 
 if the grand vision were still before his eyes. 
 After a moment's pause, he wiped his pale face 
 again, and went on — 
 
 " An' when aw th' angils seed Him they 
 began a-singin' — an' singin' — an' singin'. Hay, 
 Ben, tJiaa ne'er yerd nowt loike it. An' sum o' 
 th' angils were playin' herps, and sum wur 
 blowin' trumpits. Hay, it wur graand, Aw con 
 tell thi," and once more the sick man paused 
 and wiped his face. Then he went on — 
 
 " An' aw o' th' wunce aw th' angils wi' herps 
 an' trumpits geet togather, an' flew away aat o' 
 my seet. But wot capt me, th' music didna 
 stop ! Soa Aw went a bit narer, an' then Aw 
 seed just a tooathre singin' an' playin' by theer- 
 sel's. But they hedna ony herps thaa knows, an' 
 still Aw could yer th' music. Soa Aw went a 
 bit narer, an' then a bit narer, and then Aw seed 
 as they hed summat i' th' middle on 'em, an' 
 wun o' th' noicest o' th' angils wur playin' on it. 
 An' just then they seed me, an' they aw smilt 
 at me, an' flew up an' cum towart me, an' when 
 they flew up Aw seed th' music, an' wot dust 
 think it wur? "
 
 366 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Aw dunno knaaw," muttered Ben, divided 
 between wonder at Jabe's story and fear lest it 
 should be a warning of his speedy departure. 
 
 " Ben," said Jabe, in husky tones, leaning for- 
 ward and grasping his friend's hand again, " it 
 wur a Jiannoniony 
 
 But just at this point there was an interrup- 
 tion. Aunt Judy came back, and, glancing 
 critically at her brother's face, announced that 
 he'd been " meytherin' hissel'," and somewhat 
 summarily sent Ben out. As he was going out, 
 however, Jabe called him back, and, looking at 
 him with a gleam of the old spirit in his eye 
 that did Ben good to see, he said — 
 
 " Naa, then ! Not a chirp o' this till Aw con 
 cum aat mysel'." 
 
 During the days that followed first one and 
 then another of Jabe's friends came to see him, 
 and both they and the Clogger were greatly 
 puzzled to know how it was that nobody ever 
 mentioned the harmonium. 
 
 Jabe, lying in bed and castigating himself for 
 his sinful obstinacy, was also trying to prepare 
 himself to endure the hateful instrument on his 
 first appearance at chapel. For the silence of 
 his friends on the subject left him no room for 
 doubting that the change had been made whilst 
 he had been in bed. Whilst they, knowing 
 nothing of his altered mind, had already 
 abandoned all idea of getting the instrument. 
 
 The Sunday week after Jabe's relation of his
 
 THE HARMONIUM 367 
 
 wonderful dream to Ben, the Clogger received 
 permission to go out, and, of course, going out 
 meant to him going to chapel. His official 
 duties had been for the time relegated to Ben 
 and Nathan, and so he walked straight to his 
 seat, nerving himself as he did so to endure the 
 sight of the offensive harmonium. 
 
 For some time he knelt in his place in silent 
 praise to God for his recovery. Then he groped 
 under his little green cushion for his hymn-book 
 and Bible, and, placing these in front of him, 
 lifted his head and took his first steady look 
 towards the singing-pew. 
 
 What was the matter? Nothing seemed 
 changed. No ! Everything was just as it was 
 when last he took part in worship. 
 
 Ah! what next? Instead of at most two 
 instruments at the morning service there were 
 six or seven — 'cellos, fiddles, a trombone, and 
 even Long Ben with the double bass. Whatever 
 did it all mean ? 
 
 But just then the preacher came into the 
 pulpit and gave out the number of the hymn. 
 It sounded familiar, and whilst he was trying to 
 remember what hymn it was, the instruments 
 began to play the tune over. There was no 
 doubt about that, it was Cranbrook, and as Jabe 
 sat in perplexity with his unopened hymn-book 
 in his hand, the choir arose and sang out — 
 
 " And are we yet alive 
 And see each other's face."
 
 368 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 And Jabe, lifting his head, caught Sam Speck 
 staring hard at him over the singing-pew curtain 
 and singing with all his might. 
 
 Then it appeared to the old C logger that 
 everybody was looking at him, and singing at 
 him in pure joy at his recovery. What a sinner 
 he had been to quarrel with friends like these ! 
 
 How he got through that service Jabe never 
 knew, but when it did conclude, before anybody 
 could move from their seats he had opened his 
 pew door, and was limping excitedly down the 
 aisle. 
 
 When he reached the front he stood on tip- 
 toes looking over the singing-pew curtain in 
 vain search for the terrible instrument. 
 
 Then he suddenly lifted his head, and staring 
 wonderingly at Sam Speck, he cried — 
 
 " Wheer is it ? " 
 
 " Wheer's wot ? " 
 
 " Th' harmonion." 
 
 " We hanna getten wun." 
 
 " Haa's that ? " 
 
 And then there was a pause, and Sam Speck 
 turned and looked at Long Ben, and Ben 
 looked at Lige, and they both looked back at 
 Sam, and so that worthy leaned over the 
 curtain and cried — 
 
 " We wanten th' harmonion, bud we wanten 
 yo' viooar." 
 
 Jabe suddenly went very pale, his hand 
 shook, his face began to quiver painfully, and
 
 THE HARMONIUM 369 
 
 dropping his head upon his chest, he turned 
 round and walked straight towards the chapel 
 door. 
 
 Before passing out, however, he stopped, and 
 turning round and Hfting his head, he looked 
 the smiling congregation in the face, and 
 shouted — 
 
 " Aw said ther' shouldna be a harmonion i' 
 this chapil, an' ther' shanna." 
 
 This was a bolt from the blue indeed. 
 Surprise, perplexity, and keen disappointment 
 appeared on many a face ; and as Jabe limped 
 off home, the rest, standing in little groups out- 
 side, were asking each other what this harsh 
 and unnecessary outbreak might mean, and the 
 prevailing opinion as they parted was that the 
 old man's brain had been affected by his recent 
 illness. 
 
 A few days later mysterious things began to 
 be whispered about. The super. Long Ben, 
 Jabe, and a strange gentleman had been seen 
 going one forenoon to the chapel, and it was 
 known that they had spent over an hour there. 
 
 And then several mysterious marks appeared 
 on the chapel walls in the singers' corner, and 
 one Sunday it was discovered that all the seats 
 and fixtures had been removed from that par- 
 ticular part of the edifice, whilst an announce- 
 ment was made from the pulpit that for the 
 next two Sundays the services would be held in 
 the schoolroom. 
 
 24
 
 370 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 It was evident by this time that something 
 very strange was going on, and also that 
 several people were already in the secret. And 
 when the third Sunday came, and the people 
 gathered in the chapel, they found the singers' 
 corner occupied by a beautiful little pipe- 
 organ — 
 
 "The Gift of Jabez Longworth."
 
 The Haunted Man 
 I 
 
 The Mauvais Sujet 
 
 371
 
 The Haunted Man 
 I 
 
 The Mauvais Sujet 
 
 Some two or three weeks after the opening of 
 the new organ, and whilst Beckside was still in 
 the first flush of its pride as the only country- 
 chapel in the Duxbury Circuit that could boast 
 of such a luxury, Jabe caught cold again, and 
 was threatened with a return of his old throat 
 complaint. He was compelled therefore to 
 stay indoors on the Sunday. This of course 
 went badly against the grain ; and in order to 
 keep the old man " ony bit loike," Ben and two 
 or three others called after each service and 
 gave a full and particular account of all that 
 had taken place at the chapel, dwelling at 
 length on the achievements of the new organ, 
 and the wonderful way in which Mrs. Dr. 
 Walmsley played it. 
 
 As the time for the close of the evening 
 service drew near, Jabe limped about in his
 
 374 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 parlour with his throat muffled up, fidgeting 
 and talking impatiently to himself, and peeping 
 every minute or two out of the corner of the 
 window to see if the chapel was " loosing." 
 For the life of him he could not sit still. One 
 moment he was consulting the long-cased clock 
 standing near the door that led into the shop, 
 and comparing it carefully with his double- 
 cased watch, and the next he was taking a sip 
 at a jug of " balm tay " which stood on the 
 oven-top. Then he limped to the window 
 again, and after getting as close to the wall as 
 he could in order to see as far round the 
 corner as possible, he stood there peeping 
 slantwise up the hill to see if anyone were 
 coming down it. Every now and again he 
 imagined he could hear the organ, and stood 
 still in the middle of the floor to listen, 
 although he knew, in spite of Jimmy Juddy's 
 solemn declaration that he had heard it in 
 their kitchen, that the chapel was too far 
 away to allov/ of any such thing. Then he 
 began to snarl under his breath at the preacher, 
 and went twice to examine the " plan " 
 hanging behind the parlour door to make 
 sure that the man appointed was not one of 
 those longwinded ones. 
 
 All at once, however, the front door was 
 noisily burst open, and in rushed Sam Speck, 
 almost out of breath in his haste to tell his 
 somewhat remarkable tidinfrs.
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 375 
 
 " Wot dust think ? Whoa dust think's bin at 
 chapil ? " he cried excitedly. 
 
 " Haa dew Aw knaaw ? A7i> hevna, Aw knaaw 
 that," and the Clogger looked and spoke as if 
 Sam were responsible for his enforced absence, 
 and had done him a grievous injury. 
 
 But just then Lige came hurrying in almost 
 as much out of breath as his forerunner, and as 
 he stepped towards the hearthstone, he turned 
 to Sam, and addressing him, said, just as if 
 Jabe were not bursting with impatience and 
 curiosity — 
 
 " Well, wot dust think, naa ? Wot's he up 
 tew, think's ta ? 
 
 " Whoa ? Wot ? Wot are yo' meytherin' 
 abaat?" demanded Jabe in fierce impatience. 
 
 But before either Sam or Lige could answer, 
 Nathan and Jethro stepped in, followed imme- 
 diately by Long Ben. 
 
 Jethro was the first to speak. Ranging him- 
 self alongside Sam, and turning his head towards 
 him whilst he warmed his hands at the fire 
 behind him, he asked — 
 
 "Well, wot's th' meeanin' on it, dust think?" 
 
 And Sam, turning to face his interrogator, 
 knit his brows sternly, and, tapping Jethro on 
 the second button of his seedy Sunday coat, 
 replied emphatically — 
 
 "It meeans lumber; that wot it meeans. If 
 he isna efther some nowtiness, Aw'll — Aw'll eit 
 my yed," and, giving the knocker-up a little
 
 376 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 push as if to add additional emphasis to a 
 statement already overladen with that com- 
 modity, he stepped back, and, putting his hand 
 under his coat tails, stared doggedly at Nathan. 
 
 Jabe was " on tenter-hooks." 
 
 " Wot's up ? " he shouted huskily. " Arr 
 yo' aw gone dateliss ? Whoa arr yo' talkin' 
 abaat?" 
 
 " We're talkin' abaat Jooab, skinny Jooab," 
 cried Sam. 
 
 " W^ell, wot abaat him ? " 
 
 " He's bin ta th' chapel ta-neet ; that's wot 
 abaat him," and Sam glared at the sick Clogger 
 as if defying him to contradict his statement. 
 
 Now Job Sharpies, the pig-dealer, had never 
 been to chapel since that memorable meeting at 
 which Jabe had so scornfully returned his nig- 
 gardly sovereign for the renovation fund. For 
 years before this Job appeared to have been 
 gradually losing first one and then another 
 bond that bound him to better things, and this 
 seemed to have been the last one, for though 
 the renovated chapel had now been reopened 
 some eighteen months, he had never put his head 
 inside the doors, and had come to be regarded 
 by the chapel-goers as entirely lost to them. 
 
 Of late years, too, Job seemed to have come 
 so entirely under the dominion of the vice of 
 greed, and was so constantly engaged in deep, 
 tortuous schemes for his own enrichment, that 
 his neighbours had ceased to give him credit
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 377 
 
 for disinterestedness even in the smallest things, 
 and his most innocent actions were suspiciously 
 scrutinised, under the conviction that, when 
 properly understood, they would be seen to be 
 parts of some deep design for accomplishing 
 a selfish end. 
 
 When Jabe, therefore, received the intelligence 
 recorded above, it struck him exactly as it had 
 struck the others ; and so, after standing in the 
 middle of the floor and gazing thoughtfully at 
 Sam for a minute or more, he quietly dropped 
 into a seat, and, setting his eloquent, short leg 
 in rapid motion, stared first at Sam and then 
 at Long Ben, as if in search of something in 
 their faces that would give him a clue to this 
 great mystery. 
 
 " He's happen come ta yer th' horgin," 
 remarked Nathan at last. 
 
 Now, there was not a person in the company 
 but believed that the new instrument was 
 capable of even this miracle of attractiveness, 
 especially as Job was an old bandsman, but 
 after looking at the others for a while, Jabe 
 shook his head, and the rest wagged theirs in 
 reluctant rejection of the suggestion. 
 
 " Aw'll tell yo' wot it is," cried Lige after 
 another pause, " he's cumin' efther Phebe 
 Green ; that's wot he's efther." 
 
 Several pairs of eyebrows were immediately 
 raised, and Sam Speck was just about to make 
 a remark evidently confirmatory of this view of
 
 378 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the case, when Jabe, with his short leg moving 
 at a frantic rate, interjected — 
 
 " Talk sense, Liger. Does a dog goa courtin' 
 an owd cat efther he's worried wun of her 
 kittlins ? " 
 
 The elevated eyebrows dropped as Jabe 
 began to speak, and were knitted into moment- 
 ary frowns of perplexity as he proceeded, but 
 when he had done every face was clear again, 
 and it was evident that Lige's suggestion was 
 held to be an impossibility, for Job had, many 
 years before, badly jilted Mrs. Green's younger 
 sister Lydia, and almost broken her heart, and 
 since then Phebe, who was more like Lydia's 
 mother than her sister, had regarded Job with 
 feelings of intensest dislike. 
 
 From this point it became clear that Job's 
 real reason for visiting the chapel would have 
 to be given up, and so, as the cronies filled their 
 pipes, and settled themselves round the parlour 
 fire, the conversation turned upon the pig-dealer's 
 character and life. 
 
 After two or three unimportant remarks, Sam 
 Speck ventured to say, solemnly nodding his 
 head — 
 
 "Ther's sum foak as is lost afoor they arr 
 lost. An' Jooab's wun on 'em," 
 
 "Ther' worn't a dacenter young felley i' th' 
 Clough when he wur a lad," said Ben gently 
 
 " An' naa ther' isn't a ivur" added Lige with 
 ijrim conviction.
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 379 
 
 " Jooab," cried Jabe, rising from his seat and 
 taking a " swig " at his " bahn tay," " Jooab's 
 tew men. Ther's a sawft-herted, common-sense, 
 music-luvin' and welly religious Jooab, an' ther's 
 a snakin', grindin', splitfardin' Jooab. An' wi' 
 them tew — a — a — sperits feightin' togather i' 
 wun skin, Jooab mun hev a ter'ble toime on 
 it." 
 
 Now there was a gradual change in Jabe's 
 tone as he delivered this summary of the pig- 
 dealer's character. It went from sternness to 
 apology, and from apology to sympathy as he 
 proceeded, and so encouraged by the manifesta- 
 tion of a feeling something like his own. Long 
 Ben broke in here. 
 
 Leaning forward in his chair and waving his 
 pipe by way of emphasis, he said — 
 
 " If iver ther' wur an' owd hangil i' this wurld 
 it wur that mon's muther." 
 
 "It wur that," murmured two or three together, 
 and then there was an impressive pause, and 
 each seemed busy with his own thoughts. 
 
 " Naa," said Lige at length, cocking his head 
 at an argumentative angle, and evidently about 
 to propound some abstruse problem, " haa dun 
 yo' mak' it aat, as owd saints loike Betsy hcz 
 sich childer as Jooab — an' he wur aw as hoo 
 hed, tew? Besoide," he went on, as the position 
 opened out before him, " his fayther wur a 
 gradely good chap, tew." 
 
 Two or three siglied deei^ly, as if to show
 
 38o BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 that they had often wrestled with the problem, 
 but so far had reached no satisfactory solution. 
 
 " It's horidginal sin ; that's wot it is," said 
 Jabe sententiously. " Didn't Christ say as 
 faythers 'ud be tewk fro' childer an' childer fro' 
 payrunts at th' last day ! An' it is soa." 
 
 " Thaa talks as if th' poor lad wur lost 
 awready," said Long Ben. looking protestingly 
 at his friend, 
 
 " Lost? " cried Jabe excitedly ; "when a mon 
 gets ta fifty-five — an's gooin' wur ivery day — 
 if he isna awtert he ne'er will be." 
 
 Ben turned and looked at the Clogger steadily 
 with mingled reproach and indignation in his 
 face, and then glancing away and leaning back 
 in his chair, he said, in tones of slow, solemn 
 conviction — 
 
 " Jooab Sharpies 'ull dee a convarted mon." 
 
 Every eye turned for a moment on this venture- 
 some prophet, and then as quickly turned away 
 from him, and as nobody spoke, Ben went on — 
 
 " Owd Betsy pruyed thaasands o' pruyers for 
 her son, an' deed afoor her toime wi' meytherin' 
 abaat him, an' as shure as there's a God aboon, 
 them pruyers 'ull be answert." 
 
 One or two seemed impressed by the solemnity 
 of Ben's manner, and appeared half inclined to 
 believe his prophecy. Jabe himself shook his 
 head, and of course Sam Speck did the same. 
 
 From this point, however, the conversation 
 took a less interesting direction, stories of Job's
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 381 
 
 meanness and hardness being related by one 
 and another, and all seemed dubious about one or 
 two instances of an opposite character related by 
 Long Ben. Presently they worked themselves 
 back to the starting - point, and once more 
 speculated, but without success, on the reasons 
 for Job's unexpected presence at the chapel. 
 
 On the following afternoon, as Jabe, not yet 
 quite convalescent, sat musing and smoking in 
 the inglenook, who should step into the shop 
 but Job himself. 
 
 He had not been inside the Clog Shop for 
 over twelve months, and Jabe thought as he 
 glanced up at him that his visitor did not look 
 quite as well as usual. There was a softness, 
 somehow, about the red, sore eyes, and the face 
 looked a trifle more pinched than usual. 
 
 He came into the shop somewhat timidly, but 
 that was characteristic, and so the Clogger eyed 
 him askance and waited for him to speak. 
 
 Job was evidently ill at ease. He took his 
 snuff in a decidedly nervous manner, glanced 
 uneasily round the shop, stole a sly look at 
 Jabe as if doubtful of his reception, and then 
 moving towards the inglenook, and hesitating 
 at the edge of a seat, he said — 
 
 " Well, Aw yerd yond' horgin last neet." 
 
 So that after all was Job's reason for going 
 to chapel. Jabe was a little disappointed, and 
 answered gruffly — 
 
 " Th' horR-in's reet enufif."
 
 382 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Ay, an' hoo plays it vveel," replied Job, with 
 a little show of enthusiasm, and then he turned 
 and glanced at a seat near him, as if waiting to 
 be asked to occupy it. 
 
 The erstwhile schoolmistress's musical ability 
 requiring no defence, Jabe leaned back against 
 the chimney - jamb and stared steadily into 
 vacancy. 
 
 Job made a movement as though he would 
 sit down ; but, changing his mind, he took 
 another pinch of snuff and a sidelong glance at 
 the owner of the shop. Would Jabe never ask 
 him to sit? Evidently not. The Clogger 
 could not, or would not, see what his visitor 
 wanted. But Job had come for a serious talk, 
 and felt he could not open his mind until he 
 got comfortably seated. So he turned and 
 looked round again very significantly, but the 
 Clogger would not respond. 
 
 Then he propped himself awkwardly against 
 the inglenook and blew his snuffy nose. Then 
 he resumed an upright attitude, took a step 
 forward, picked up and began effusively to 
 admire a pair of new clogs standing on the 
 counter. But even this did not move the stolid 
 Clogger, and at last Job, dropping his voice, as 
 became the nature of his question, asked — 
 
 " Jabe, hast iver seen a boggart ? " 
 
 The Clogger laughed a hard, contemptuous 
 laugh. " Ay ! " he cried, " Aw sees 'em ivery 
 day."
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 383 
 
 " Ay, bur gradely boggarts — sperits, thaa 
 knaaws," 
 
 " Aw knaaw nowtabaat 'em. It's tew-legged 
 boggarts, wi' clugs on, as Aw'm bothert wi'." 
 
 Job took another cautious look round the 
 shop, sighed a Httle, blew his nose again, picked 
 up the short poker and tried to balance it on 
 his finger, put it down carefully in the corner 
 again, and then, leaning across and touching 
 Jabe on the knee, he said, awesomely — 
 
 "Jabe^ Aiv sees ^em reglar." 
 
 The Clogger laughed again ; but a gleam of 
 curiosity shot into his eye, and turning his head 
 the least bit round towards his visitor, he cried — 
 
 " Ay, ivery toime thaa leuks i' th' leuking- 
 glass, Aw reacon." 
 
 " Jabe," replied Job solemnly, and ignoring 
 his friend's mocking tone, " Aw sees 'em ivery 
 wik, owd lad. Aw'm bewitched, an' it's killin' 
 me." 
 
 By this time it was evident that Job was very 
 much in earnest, and the Clogger, in spite of 
 himself, was compelled to turn and look at his 
 companion. 
 
 The man's face was drawn and white. His 
 eyes had a frightened, appealing look in them, 
 and dank moisture was beginning to gather on 
 his forehead. 
 
 " Ger aat, thaa sawftyed ! Whoa dust see ? " 
 answered the Clogger, with an odd blending of 
 impatience and curiosity.
 
 384 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Jabe, Aw sees — my — my~muther," and a 
 choking sound like a smothered sob escaped 
 the distressed man, and falling into a seat, he 
 dropped his head into his hands and groaned. 
 
 " Thi muther ! Well, tha'rt noa feart of her 
 sure//? " 
 
 " Jabe, thaa knaaws wot a bonny sweet face 
 hoo uset have." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " It's noa loikc that naa ; it's dark an' fearsome, 
 an' it sets me aw of a whacker. An' Aw swecats 
 till th' bed swims." 
 
 Jabe felt almost tempted to tell his visitor 
 that it served him right, but the poor fellow's 
 face told such a tale of anguish that he could 
 not find in his heart to do so, and so he sat look- 
 ing thoughtfully before him without speaking, 
 
 " An,' Jabe," went on Job, in a pathetic voice 
 little louder than a whisper, " Aw sees sumbry 
 wur nor my muther." 
 
 Jabe looked up with a large note of interroga- 
 tion on his face, but he never spoke. 
 
 " Whoa dust think Aw see, lad ? " 
 
 " Th' owd lad ? " 
 
 " Neaw ; wur nor him, Jabe." 
 
 " Wur nor him ? Thaa conna see nowt wur 
 nor th' divil ! " 
 
 " Aw dew, Jabe ! Aw dew ! " and Job shook 
 his head with a weary, heartbroken moan. 
 
 " Whey ! whoa th' ferrups const see wur nor 
 him ? " cried Jabe in amazement.
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 385 
 
 " Jabe," — and here the speaker's voice became 
 husky and thick with agitation, — " Aw sees 
 Liddy." 
 
 Jabe felt a cold chill run down his spine, and 
 he was bound to admit to himself that if he had 
 acted as Job had acted towards Lydia Scholes, 
 the appearance of her spirit to him would be 
 more terrible than a visit from his satanic 
 majesty, and so he sat staring before him with 
 an amazed and dumbfounded look. 
 
 " Wot mun Aw dew, Jabe — wot mun Aw 
 dew ? " 
 
 Oh, what a sermon Jabe could have preached 
 just then on the expensiveness of sin and the 
 certainty of retribution. But for the life of him 
 he could not compel himself to speak, and his 
 long-pent-up anger with his hard, niggardly 
 visitor was fast giving place to a feeling of deep 
 pity. But Job was speaking again. 
 
 " My muther uset pray fur me, an' talk ta me, 
 an' coax me — hoo'd a laid daan her loife for 
 me, an' naa hoo's turnt inta a fearsome boggart 
 as frcetens me loife aat, an' drives me maddlet. 
 An' Liddy !— they'll kill me, Jabe, they'll kill 
 me." 
 
 But Jabe could hold in no longer. 
 
 " It's thi conscience, mon ; it's thi bad loife. 
 Thaa mun repent, an' start o' doin' reet and give 
 o'er scrattin' for brass, an' then th' boggarts 'ull 
 leeav' thi. Nay, they winna leeav' thi ; bud th' 
 boggarts 'ull be turnt inta guardian angils, an', 
 
 25
 
 386 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 insteead o' scarrin' thi, they'll tak' cur on thi an' 
 comfort thi." 
 
 Jabe having thus thawed at last, conversation 
 became easy, and Job poured out the whole tale 
 of his troubles to his companion, manifesting at 
 one moment a desire to justify, or, at least, 
 excuse himself, and the next accusing and 
 condemning himself in unsparing terms as the 
 author of much misery both to himself and 
 others. 
 
 Presently, relieved and comforted by the 
 conversation, he rose to go. When he reached 
 the door he stood looking at and toying with 
 the sneck for some time, and then turning back, 
 he came to the fireplace again, and standing 
 over the Clogger with fist clenched, and a face 
 aflame with shame and bitter self-reproach, he 
 cried — 
 
 " Dust knaaw wot hell is, Jabe ? When a 
 chap's badniss turns his blessed owd muther 
 into a tormenting boggart, an' brings her aat o' 
 heaven ta pester an' freeten him ; an' when his 
 sweetheart, as luved ivery hur o' his yed is 
 driven aat of her restin'-place ta be a skriking 
 ghooast tew him, that's hell. An' that's wheer 
 Aw am." 
 
 And with a wild despairing gesture he fled 
 from the shop.
 
 The Haunted Man 
 II 
 
 How the Boggarts were laid 
 
 387
 
 The Haunted Man 
 II 
 
 How the Boggarts were Laid 
 
 Job Sharples lived in the first house in Beck- 
 side, on the same side of the road as the chapel, 
 and about a hundred yards higher up the 
 "broo." It was rather a large house for a 
 solitary bachelor, being a good four-roomed 
 structure, but old, and covered at both ends 
 with ivy. It had narrow windows, a quaint 
 porch, and a forlorn and neglected garden. 
 The house had fallen into Job's hands some 
 years before at a very low price, in consequence 
 of the fact that old Tim Lindley, the original 
 owner, had committed suicide in it, and a 
 rumour, carefully encouraged after a while by 
 the wily pig-dealer, had got afloat that Tim's 
 ghost had been seen in it. At the sale nobody 
 would bid, and so it fell into Job's hands at less 
 than half its value. And as Jabe sat musing by 
 the fire on all he had just heard, he could not
 
 390 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 but see in Job's recent experiences a strong 
 confirmation of the doctrine of retribution in 
 which he was so firm a believer. 
 
 It was well known in the village, too, that old 
 Betsy Sharpies had done her ver}^ best to wean 
 her son from his grasping tendencies, and that 
 when she failed she had solemnly declared to 
 Job that his money would not only never bring 
 him happiness, but would eventually work him 
 earthly shame and suffering and eternal misery. 
 And Jabe saw in Job's present condition a 
 literal fulfilment of the old woman's prediction. 
 
 The heartless way, also, in which, after several 
 years' courtship, he had jilted one of the sweetest 
 girls in the neighbourhood could never be for- 
 gotten by any Becksider, especially as everyone 
 knew that he gave poor Lydia up because he 
 thought he saw a chance of marrying money, a 
 chance that, after all, he missed. Poor broken- 
 hearted Lydia, it was said, had, when goaded by 
 Job's cold sneers, told him in a passion of tears 
 that he had given her her death-blow, and that 
 if she did die she would come back to him and 
 spoil every pleasure he should ever have. And 
 it was told, too, that after he had left her, Lydia 
 had repented and gone after him to ask his 
 pardon, and to tell him as long as she lived she 
 would pray for him, and that after her death 
 she would watch over him, for, living or dying, 
 she could never do anything but love him. 
 
 Then Lydia, after wearing away almost to a
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 391 
 
 skeleton, had left Beckside for a change of air, 
 and since then, with the exception of her sister, 
 Phebe Green, nobody knew what had become 
 of her, and if Phebe knew, she never told. This 
 was now nearly twenty years ago, and beyond a 
 rumour that she had died in the Manchester 
 Infirmary, nobody knew anything about her. 
 
 But, of course, as Jabe sat musing on these 
 things by the fire, he realised that there could 
 now be no doubt as to Lydia's whereabouts. 
 If her ghost had appeared to the hardened Job, 
 she must be dead, and that settled the matter. 
 As he reflected on these things, his blood boiled 
 with indignation at the pig-dealer's harshness 
 towards his gentle sweetheart. But then, as he 
 recalled Job's haggard face and wild, despairing 
 looks, he melted again, and felt deeply sorry for 
 the man. 
 
 That night he paid a visit to Job, and after 
 trying to comfort the unhappy man, he preached 
 him a very earnest and plain - spoken little 
 sermon, exhorting him to mend his ways and 
 return to chapel, and then perhaps the " boggarts " 
 would trouble him no more. At the same time 
 Jabe took care not to stay too long, for though 
 he greatly honoured the two dead women, he 
 had no desire to meet them again, especially in 
 Job's company. 
 
 And Job seemed disposed to listen to his 
 friend's counsel, and became most regular in 
 his attendance at the chapel.
 
 392 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 Then he took a pew — a whole pew — though 
 there was nobody to occupy it but himself. His 
 contributions to the collections were noticeably 
 generous, and he began to put out feelers in the 
 direction of returning to the band. At the same 
 time he improved visibly in health, and appeared 
 passably cheerful, spending at least one night a 
 week at the Clog Shop fire. But after a little 
 time less satisfactory signs began to show them- 
 selves. He sub-let part of the pew he had taken, 
 began to give coppers again at the collections, 
 and was commonly reported to have dealt in 
 the old harsh fashion with a tenant who was 
 behind with her rent. 
 
 Two or three times Jabe attacked him about 
 these signs of lapsing, and told him again and 
 again that half-measures would not do, and that 
 a man like him must be everything or nothing. 
 But Job apparently took no notice, and was 
 evidently fast returning to his old hard ways, 
 when one morning, before the Clogger was up, 
 he presented himself at the Clog Shop, and with 
 wild eyes and pallid cheeks, and hands that 
 shook when he tried to use them, he cried as he 
 met the Clogger at the foot of the stairs — 
 
 " Jabe, Jabe, they've bin ageean ! " 
 
 "Didn't Aw tell thi ! " cried the Clogger. 
 " They're sewer ta come ; tha'll ha' noa peace 
 till thaa turns o'er gradely." 
 
 " Bud Aw hev turnt o'er ! Aw come ta th' 
 chapil reglar, an' Aw gees i' th' c'llection, an'" —
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 393 
 
 " Wot's that ? " shouted Jabe with disdainful 
 impatience. " Tha'll ha' ta turn o'er gradely, 
 an' goa ta th' penitent form, an' jine th' class, 
 an' give o'er money-grubbin', an' mak' it up 
 ta them as tha's chizelled, an' be a gradely 
 Christian." 
 
 " Chizelled ! Aw hevna — Aw shanna ha' 
 ta pay back, shall Aw?" And Job opened his 
 mouth, and gazed at the Clogger with surprise 
 and terror in his eyes. 
 
 " If thaa wants peace wi' God an' th' boggarts, 
 tha'll ha' ta undew aw th' herm tha's done, as 
 fur as thaa con," reiterated Jabe emphatically, 
 for he realised that no half-measures would 
 suffice with the pig-dealer. 
 
 Job sat for a long time after this, moaning 
 and groaning, and evidently hard hit indeed. 
 Nobody ever charged him with real dishonesty, 
 but he himself knew how much there was in his 
 life that would require to be undone, if this was 
 the only condition on which he could have rest ; 
 and as his memory brought back to him case 
 after case of hard dealing and mean trickery, he 
 writhed on his seat in remorse and fear. 
 
 Presently he rose to his feet. 
 
 " Aw darr na sleep i' yond' haase anuther 
 neet ! Aw darr na ! Hay, dear ! Wot mun 
 Aw dew? " 
 
 Then he left, and during the day Jabe obtained 
 temporary lodgings for the miserable man. The 
 following Sunday there were two large pieces of
 
 394 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 silver in the collection-box, and Job even stayed 
 to the Sunday night prayer-meeting. 
 
 Then he took to frequenting the Clog Shop 
 nearly every day, and adopted such a humble 
 and conciliatory tone towards those who usually 
 gathered there, that they soon made him feel at 
 home amongst them, and missed him when he 
 was absent. He began also to recover his 
 health and lightness of spirit. 
 
 And so two months passed on, and though 
 Jabe still held stoutly to his contention that Job 
 would never get peace until he " gan in gradely," 
 yet he was fain to acknowledge that there was 
 an immense improvement in his pupil all round. 
 
 Amongst other things. Job had tried to get 
 upon good terms with Phebe Green, the mangle- 
 woman, and elder sister of his old-time sweet- 
 heart, Lydia. But though he was very persistent 
 and patient, Phebe would have nothing to do 
 with him, and repelled all his advances with 
 cold and undisguised suspicion. 
 
 By this time it had got well on into autumn, 
 and the Clog Shop fire had a large circle of 
 visitors round it every night. 
 
 One evening Job was missing, and though it 
 was known that he had gone to Lamb Fold to 
 " stick a pig " early in the afternoon, no one 
 knew whether he had returned or not. 
 
 Two or three of the early birds had departed, 
 and Jabe, Sam, and Long Ben were seated deep 
 in the inglenook, the flickering chip fire fitfully
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 395 
 
 lighting up their faces as they discussed the 
 approaching Christmas festivities. 
 
 Suddenly there was a dull, heavy thud at the 
 door, and then, as they looked alarmed ly at each 
 other, all was still again. It was too late for 
 boyish tricks. What could it be ? 
 
 " Wot th' ferrups is that ? " cried Sam in 
 startled tones. But though they all held 
 their breath, and listened, nobody answered. 
 Presently Jabe rose to his feet, and limped 
 cautiously towards the door. He stood a 
 moment to look at it. It was still fast, and 
 nothing unusual could be seen. 
 
 Then he jerked the door open and stepped 
 back, partly to avoid any sudden attack, and 
 partly to get the advantage of the light. 
 Nothing could be seen, but, as he was about to 
 take a step forward, a heavy groan came from 
 somewhere near the door, and Jabe jumped back 
 in a fright. 
 
 Sam and Ben came gingerly up to his side, 
 and stood looking in the direction of Jabe's 
 gaze. 
 
 Another groan ! and evidently very near. 
 Then Jabe, whose scepticism on the subject of 
 boggarts was being severely shaken, thought he 
 saw something dark on the ground inside the 
 outer door. 
 
 He drew a deep sigh, glanced awesomely 
 around, assured himself that his companions 
 were still by his side, and was just putting for-
 
 396 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 ward his short leg, when a woeful voice wailed 
 out piteously — 
 
 " AwVe seen 'em ageean, Jabe. Ageean ! 
 Ageean ! " 
 
 Now the Clogger had kept Job's secret 
 perfectly, and neither Sam nor Ben knew 
 anything of what had happened. So with 
 frightened starts they stepped back, and looked 
 with scared faces at Jabe. 
 
 That worthy returned their look with interest, 
 and then, snatching at the only candle that was 
 burning, he brought it forward, and, stooping 
 down, peered earnestly at the heap behind the 
 door. There, all huddled together, lay the 
 unhappy Job. 
 
 " Save me, Jabe ! Save me, fur God's sake ! " 
 he cried. " Aw've seen 'em ageean." 
 
 Jabe turned round, put the candle on the 
 little counter, laid down his expired pipe, and 
 then going forward, gripped the miserable Job 
 by the back of his coat - collar, raised him 
 slowly to his feet, and led him into the dim 
 light. 
 
 Job had a bruise on his forehead, and his 
 nose was bleeding a little, whilst his face was 
 white and haggard. 
 
 " Wotiver's ta dew wi' thi, lad ? " cried the 
 Clogger. 
 
 But Job's head dropped upon his chest, and 
 staggering towards the fire, he fell heavily into 
 a scat. Then bending forward and propping
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 397 
 
 his head upon his hands, he burst into a cry 
 and sobbed as if his heart would break. 
 
 It eventually transpired that he had been to 
 Lamb Fold, and was returning home after dark, 
 thinking of anything except his recent troubles, 
 when suddenly, just as he got down the Clough 
 " bonk," and stepped upon the cinder path 
 along the Beckside, there — right before him — 
 stood the two ghostly forms he had learned to 
 fear so much. 
 
 Maddened and desperate, Job went from 
 fear to frenzy, and darted recklessly at the 
 spectres, and as they vanished before him, he 
 fell headlong into the Beck, bruising his face on 
 a stone, and getting his clothes soaked with 
 muddy water. 
 
 How he scrambled out and got into Shaving 
 Lane he was never able to tell, and he had not 
 much more idea as to how he had reached the 
 Clog Shop. 
 
 As he sat there, wet and bruised, and almost 
 ghastly, he would have been a heartless man 
 who had not pitied him. Everything that 
 could be done to soothe and relieve him was 
 done. Jabe found him some old clothes, and 
 insisted on his changing his wet garments. 
 Long Ben slipped off to fetch some of his 
 wife's famous coltsfoot wine, to v/hich was 
 added a few drops of a mysterious mixture 
 of magical power, concocted by little Eli — 
 rumour said in the dead of night — and called
 
 398 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 by him " Number Seven," which had never 
 been known to fail in casting off the effects of 
 a chill if taken in time. Sam, with a little rag 
 and warm water, carefully washed the unfor- 
 tunate man's wound, preparatory to applying 
 a green wax plaster — also the invention of the 
 aforesaid little Eli. 
 
 But even when these things were accom- 
 plished, Job seemed ill at ease. His eyes 
 wandered wildly about the room ; he started 
 violently at every sound ; and when it was 
 mildly suggested that he should go to his 
 lodgings and sleep, he became terribly alarmed, 
 and utterly refused to go anywhere by himself. 
 
 Ultimately it was decided that he should 
 sleep with the C logger, but as he was still too 
 excited to rest, he sat cowering by the fire, 
 whilst Jabe related to Ben and Sam all that 
 was necessary to enable them to understand 
 the case. The two stayed until a very late 
 hour, and when they had departed, and Jabe 
 had administered another dose of coltsfoot wine 
 and " Number Seven," he put the still excited 
 man to bed, and lay down by his side. 
 
 Next morning there was a solemn consulta- 
 tion at the Clog Shop. Sam Speck, having 
 seen Ben going into that establishment, came 
 hurrying across the road from his own cottage, 
 with the remains of his breakfast in his hand, 
 and a great idea struggling for an opportunity 
 of expressing itself in his mind.
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 399 
 
 As Sam entered, Jabe was just finishing his 
 account of the weary night he had spent with 
 Job, who had at last dropped off into sleep 
 and must not on any account be awakened. 
 
 "An' Aw'll tell thi summat," said the C logger 
 in conclusion, and looking with earnest con- 
 viction at Long Ben ; " if ther' isna a hawtera- 
 tion afoor lung, ther'll be anuther mon fur th' 
 'sylum." 
 
 " Poor felley," said Ben softly ; " hedn't thaa 
 better send fur th' doctor? " 
 
 " It's a soul-doctor an' not a body-doctor as 
 he wants," replied Jabe. 
 
 This was Sam's opportunity. Crowding the 
 last piece of buttered oatcake hastily into his 
 mouth, and thrusting his head in between his 
 two friends, he swallowed the food, and said at 
 last— 
 
 " If yo' tew han owt abaat yo', yo'll cure him 
 yorsel's." 
 
 But Jabe was in no mood for trifling. 
 
 " Wot's th' lumpyed meytherin' abaat naa," 
 he cried, casting a withering look at Sam, and 
 limping off into the parlour to listen at the 
 foot of the stairs, and ascertain whether Job 
 were still sleeping. 
 
 Sam waited, secure in his confidence in his 
 great idea, until Jabe came back, and then 
 putting on a look of greatest gravity, and using 
 his forefinger to emphasise what he was saying, 
 he asked —
 
 400 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 " Yo' tew's th' yeds o' th' church, arna yo' ? " 
 
 " Well, wot bi that ? " 
 
 " Well, doesn't th' owd Beuk say as th' elders 
 is ta cast aat divils ? " 
 
 " Thaa doesn't caw Liddy an' Owd Betsy 
 divils, sure//?" 
 
 " Neaw ; bud they're boggarts, an' that's th' 
 same thing ? " 
 
 " Well, o' aw th' bletherin' leatheryeds — 
 Sithi' ! Aw wodna cast 'em aat if Aw could ! 
 They're dewin' him good, mon ! Mooar good 
 nor they iver did woll they wur wik. They're 
 savin' his sowl, mon." 
 
 " Well, they're takkin' a rough wey o' dewin' 
 it, that's aw as Aw hev' ta say." 
 
 " We met hev' a bit of a pruyer-meetin' fur 
 him, at ony rate," suggested Ben quietly ; but 
 just then Job began to stir about upstairs, and 
 Jabe hurried off to attend to him, and the 
 other two departed, Sam still confident that 
 his plan for Job's recovery was the only likely 
 one. 
 
 A day or two later the suggested prayer- 
 meeting was held, Job himself being present, 
 and responding very loudly to every petition 
 at all applicable to his particular case. And 
 whether it was the prayer-meeting, or the 
 influence of his own fears, or both combined, 
 sure enough Job was at the penitent form on 
 the following Sunday night. 
 
 It was a long and desperate struggle, and
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 401 
 
 when the after-meeting broke up about half- 
 past nine at night, though Job declared that 
 he felt a " foine soight leeter," the professional 
 judges of this kind of thing could scarcely be 
 said to be satisfied, and Jabe voiced the feelings 
 of more than one when he said — 
 
 " He'll tak' noa harm fur being i' pickle a bit." 
 
 From that time, however, there was a very- 
 marked change in the poor pig-dealer. He joined 
 Jabe's class, bought a new fiddle, and assisted 
 the band at the Christmas tea-party, reduced 
 the rents of several of his poorer tenants, and 
 gratified the housewives living on his property 
 so thoroughly in the matter of repairs and 
 fresh wall-paper, that they became loud in his 
 praises, and declared that he was " gradely 
 convarted." 
 
 Then he had the cheap little tombstone on his 
 mother's grave replaced by a marble one with 
 gold lettering, the only one of its kind in the 
 chapel-yard, and Jabe and his friends were 
 divided between intense pride and delight in 
 the new stone, and misgivings as to whether 
 Job was not " showing off." 
 
 Then he gave up what remained to him of his 
 original business, and made it over to a former 
 assistant who was poor and struggling. So 
 great, in fact, was the change in him that the 
 very children noticed it, and the harsh, unsym- 
 pathetic old pig-dealer and landlord became a 
 popular favourite with them. 
 
 26
 
 402 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 But perhaps the most remarkable of all his 
 achievements was his success with Phebe Green. 
 He not only got on speaking terms with her, 
 but, by obtaining a situation for little Jacky in 
 Duxbury, he seemed quite to have won the 
 mother over, and became so intimate with her 
 that he was once caught by Sam Speck actually 
 turning the mangle ; and as Job's amorous dis- • 
 position was well known, it was confidently 
 predicted that it would " end up in a weddin'." 
 
 Early in the following spring Job ventured to 
 go back and live in his own cottage ; and as he 
 was growing visibly stouter and younger-looking, 
 it was concluded that he had effectually got rid 
 of his gruesome visitors. 
 
 Then he began to " fettle up " his house. He 
 had large new windows put in the front. The 
 outhouses were repaired, and Lige, who seemed 
 to have taken the pig-dealer under his special 
 protection, spent much of his time assisting him 
 to weed and restore the long-neglected garden. 
 And, of course, no stronger confirmation could 
 be given of the idea that Job was going to marry 
 the mangle-woman. 
 
 And Phebe's conduct seemed to give further 
 support to this view. She certainly no longer 
 shunned her old-time enemy ; and when quizzed 
 about him, she laughed in a very significant sort 
 of way, and said in her own peculiar manner 
 that " them as lives th' lungest 'ull see th' 
 mooast."
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 403 
 
 Of course Job himself did not escape chaff on 
 the subject, and those who treated him to it 
 were encouraged by the discovery that he rather 
 seemed to like it. For years he had been 
 hankering after a wife, but hitherto his prefer- 
 ence had always been given to women " wi' an 
 owd stockin'," and in those days he probably 
 never even thought of Phebe. She was poor, 
 and had four children, one of whom was an 
 invalid, but more than all he knew that the 
 motherly sister of his old sweetheart, Lydia, 
 would have scorned him in spite of his money. 
 
 But now everything was changed. He could 
 help a brave woman who was making an heroic 
 struggle. Her children with his money behind 
 them would make something out ; and, helping 
 her, Job would be helping himself to popular 
 appreciation, a thing he greatly coveted in these 
 latter days. And, besides all this, to help Phebe 
 was about the only means left to him of making 
 atonement for his conduct to the gentle Lydia. 
 
 Job did not conceal from himself, either, that 
 Phebe, though proud and close, was a clever, 
 managing woman, and would be a great help 
 to him in the plans he had formed for the 
 future. 
 
 All these things, therefore, made the village 
 talk very pleasant to Job, and he redoubled his 
 efforts to ingratiate himself into Phebe's favour. 
 
 For four months now he had seen no 
 "boggarts," and declared almost every day at
 
 404 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 the Clog Shop that he had never known what 
 life was until now. 
 
 One evening in the early summer, after a hard 
 day's work in his garden, he had seated himself 
 on the little side-seat in the porch at the front 
 of his house, and with a pot of nettle-beer at one 
 side of him and his snuff-box in his hand was 
 musing on his future, and his possible chances 
 of winning Phebe. The look on his face told 
 plainly how pleasant were his thoughts. The 
 air was laden with the scent of wallflowers and 
 early roses, and musical with the songs of the 
 birds. All nature seemed to smi!e upon him, 
 and as he looked around at the bright flowers 
 and white-blossomed hedges, he heaved a great 
 sigh of contentedness, and murmured softly — 
 
 " Hay ! God's good ! God's varry good ! " 
 
 As Job sat musing thus, a woman stole out of 
 the mangle-house at the bottom of the village, 
 and, turning into Shaving Lane, crossed the stile, 
 and began climbing slowly up the hill towards 
 the Duxbury Road. She was of about medium 
 height, with small regular features, soft dark 
 eyes, and a clear white skin. Evidently she 
 was about thirty-seven years of age, and a fair 
 example of that type of Lancashire woman 
 who is fairer at forty than at twenty. 
 
 She looked a little nervous and preoccupied, 
 and every now and again a soft warm light rose 
 into her eyes and made her face look tender 
 and sweet.
 
 THE HAUNTED MAN 405 
 
 When she got over the stile into the road, a 
 Httle above Job's house, she paused and glanced 
 rather anxiously about her. Then she sought 
 the shelter of the high hedge, and stole quietly 
 down towards the cottage with her heart beating 
 almost into her mouth. 
 
 When she got close to the house she stopped, 
 and after looking cautiously around again, she 
 bent her head, and peeping through the hedge, 
 caught sight of Job sitting in the porch. 
 
 Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, tears all 
 shining with the light of a joy that was almost 
 holy. 
 
 She put her hand on her beating heart, and 
 sighed, and then bent down and peeped again — 
 a good, careful look this time. 
 
 Then she took a step nearer, and touched the 
 gate with a hand that trembled so that it 
 shook. 
 
 "Job!" 
 
 The musing pig-dealer started with a terrified 
 cry. The colour left his face. He rose to his 
 feet hastily, and opened his mouth to shriek, 
 but just then the gate clanked, and in another 
 moment two soft plump arms were thrown 
 around him, a hot tearful face was laid against 
 his, and a low eager voice cried — 
 
 " Bless thi, lad 1 Aw knowed tha'd cum reet ! 
 God does answer pruyer ! Bless thi ! Bless thi, 
 lad ! " 
 
 " Liddy 1 Liddy ! ! " cried Job, almost beside
 
 4o6 BECKSIDE LIGHTS 
 
 himself. " It's no' thee ! Tha'rt no' vvik ! Hay, 
 wench 1 W-e-n-c-h." And Job folded his arms 
 around his long-lost love, and hugged her to his 
 heart. 
 
 Yes, it was Lydia. She had not died after all, 
 but had been in service in London, and kept up 
 secret communication with her sister Phebe. 
 She had waited in prayerful faith and hope all 
 these years, and at last, at her sister's instigation, 
 had come home to her heart's only love. 
 
 And there they sat in the little porch, laughing 
 and crying together, and making mutual con- 
 fessions and vows for a happier future, and as 
 the sun dropped behind Wardle Hill and the 
 birds ceased their songs, poor Job at last found 
 peace and all the wealth of a woman's un- 
 wearying love. 
 
 THE END 
 
 PRINTED BY 
 MOKRISO.N' AXD GIBB LIMITED, EDINBUKGH
 
 BY THM SAMM AUTHOR. 
 
 CLOG SHOP CHRONICLES. 
 
 By JOHN ACKWORTH 
 
 (Rev. Fred. R. Smith). 
 
 Seventh Thousand. Art linen, gilt top, 8s. 6d. 
 
 Some press IRotices. 
 
 London Quarterly Revie'w.— "This book is unsurpassed and unsurpass- 
 able. It is a work of genius." 
 
 Christian World.— " Mr. Ackworth has aclneved liere a distinct success. 
 . . . The author knows his way to tlie common human heart. His humour, 
 his pathos, and his at times broad comedy, steeped as tliey all are in the en- 
 nobling element of religious faith and love, make us laugh and cry by turns, 
 ■while they keep us voraciously reading to the end. . . . There is, iu fact, not 
 a story in the book which does not leave us hungering for more." 
 
 New Age.— "A wreath of vivid portraiture. ... We have not met with 
 anything bntter than this for many a day. The author of ' Clog Shop Chronicles' 
 has made his mark. . . . Every page is instinct with all that is most character- 
 istic of Lancashire folk, and the author takes a front place in the ranks of our 
 story-tellers." 
 
 Birmingham Daily Gazette.— "The book is distinctly a work of genius, 
 the author not only saturated with his subjtct, but having the power to convey 
 liis impressions so vividly and distinctly that halfway through the book wo seem 
 to have known the homely, hearty, kindly people of the clog-wearing districts of 
 Lancashire all our lives long. . . . Humour, pathos, tragedy abound. ... A feast 
 of good things." 
 
 Sheffield Independent.— "It is no exaggerated praise to say that Mr. 
 Ackwortli has done for English industrial village life what Mr. Barrie did for 
 Thrums. The book reads like a page torn from the book of life. . . . Some of 
 the stories are dramatic ; others are sweet idylls full of grace. . . . Most of them 
 deal with domestic crises, and alternate tragedy and unconscious mirth." 
 
 Scotsman.— " The book ia worthy of the highest praise." 
 
 London : CHARLES H. KELLY, 2, Castle St., City Rd., E.C; 
 AND 26, Pateknoster Row, E.C.
 
 Seventh Edition. Tiiiriy-firsi Thousand. 
 
 PETER MACKEN. 
 
 His Life and Labours. 
 
 By the Rev. JOSEPH DAWSON. 
 
 With Three Portraits and Eighteen other //lustrations. 
 Grown 8vo, 8s. 6d. 
 
 ©pinions ot tbe prc65. 
 
 Leeds Mercury. — "Mr. Dawson lias collected his materials 
 with praiseworthy industry, and has woven them together in a 
 skilful and artistic manner. The result of his literary handi- 
 work is a book which is sure to take a high place among the 
 religious biographies of the age. . . . Readers will find the 
 closing chapters of the memoir a verital)le feast of good things. 
 The collection of anecdotes illustrating different traits in 
 Mackenzie's character— his happy eccentricity, his geniality, his 
 courtesy, his generosity, and his simplicity — will be highly 
 prized. . . . It is a story of which English Methodism may well 
 be proud, and which could not have had a more effective setting 
 than that which the writer has succeeded in giving to it, and 
 which the publishers have enhanced by adorning the book with 
 numerous portraits and other illustrations." 
 
 Daily Chronicle.— " Mr. Dawson has well told the story of 
 Mackenzie's life, and thereby given the world fresh assurance of 
 a man." 
 
 Scotsman. — " It is a singularly interesting story, and, while 
 full of the CA'angelistic spirit, possesses a robustness that is not 
 always associated with the Methodist preacher." 
 
 Yorkshire Post. — " A good piece of workmanship ; the 
 chapters in which Mr. Dawson makes his analysis of ilackenzie's 
 character and genius are worthy of being called literature. . . . 
 It is not impossible that with more leisure the book had been 
 spoiled. It has by accident something of the briskness of 
 Mackenzie himself, which was inimitable." 
 
 London : CHARLES H. KELLY, 2, Castle St., City Rd., E.C. ; 
 AND 26, Paternoster Row, E.C.
 
 CHARLES H. KELLYS 
 
 Dew and I^eceot Pyblioations 
 
 ♦♦«♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦«♦«♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦*♦♦♦*♦♦♦♦♦♦««♦«*♦««♦•«•♦•♦♦«♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ 
 
 Great Britain and her Queen. An Account of ihe Queen's 
 
 Reign, 1S37 — 1S97, with a Cli.ipler on Meihodist History of '.he Period. 
 By Anne E. Keeling. Illustrated with more than 150 Portraits of 
 Public Persons, including Presidents of the Conference ; also Views of the 
 chief Public Buildings of Methodism. Crown 8vo, 2j. Gilt edges, 2s. 6ti. 
 
 Creed and Conduct. A Series of Readings for each Week 
 
 of the Year frtim Dr. Alexander Maclapi-n. Selected and Arranged by 
 Rev. George Coates. Crown Svo, with Portrait, 3^ 6d. 
 
 The Scripture Way of Salvation. By Rev. John Wesley, 
 
 M.-'V. With Preface and Notes by Professor J. Agar Beet, D.D. Crown 
 i2mo, gilt top, Zd. 
 
 Barbara Fjeck. A Story of Early Methodism in America. 
 
 Jiy W. H. WiTHKOw, M.A. Crown Svo. Fifteen Illustrations. 2s 6d. 
 
 y\ Sumn\ary of Methodist Law at^d Discipiine. Compiled 
 
 by the Rev. John S. Simon (by order of the Conference). Crown Svo, 
 quarter-bound roan, 6.!-. 
 
 The Fernley Lecture of 1896. 
 
 The TI]eo!ogy of Modern Fictioq. By Rev. T. G. Selby, 
 
 Author of "The Imperfect Angel," '' The Ministry of the Lord Jesus," etc. 
 Demy Svo. Paper covers, 2S. ; cloth, 3J. 
 
 " Mr. Selby brings to the treatment of his subject extensive and accurate 
 knowledge and a fine literary taste. His e.xposition of the teachings of 
 the writers with whom he deals is done with remarkable care, whilst his 
 lucidity of style and felicity of illustration are everywhere conspicuous." — 
 Leeds Mercury. 
 
 The New Lancashire Methodist Stories. 
 Clog Shop Chronicles. By John Ackworth. Full of 
 
 Quaint Character, Humour, and Pathos. Seventh Thousand. Art linen, 
 gilt top, 3^. td. 
 
 " The author knows his way to the common human heart. His humour, 
 his pathos, and his at times broad comedy, steeped as they all are in the en- 
 nobling element of religious faith and love, make us laugh and cry by turn.s 
 while they keep us voraciously reading to the end." — The Christian U'or/d. 
 
 Peter Macker\zie : His Life and Labours. By Rev. Joseph 
 
 Dawson. Seventh Edition. 'Thirty-fij'th Thcmar.d. Crown Svo, cloth gilt, 
 pp. X. and 348. Three Portraits and Eighteen other Illustrations, -^s. td. 
 
 Days of Cod's Rigl]t Hand. Our Mission Tour in 
 
 Australasia and Ceylon. By Thomas Cook. Crown Svo. Illustrated. 
 ■2S. 6d. Fourth Thousand. 
 
 "Told in a beautiful spirit. There is no empty bo.asting or supercilious 
 pride. Everywhere there is manifest a lovely and quiet spirit, but a spirit 
 fired with a glowing faith and adoring praise." — 'J'he Methodist Recorder, 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Read, E.G.; 
 
 And 7.6, Paternoster Row, E.C.
 
 NEW AND RECENT FUBLlCATlOHS-conimueJ. 
 Across Siberia o?\ i\\e Great Post Road. By Charles 
 
 Wemyon, M.D. With Portrait, Map, and Twenty-seven Illustrations. 
 Imperial i6mo, 3.? 6./. Second TkoHsand. 
 
 "One of the pleasante'^t books of travel we have read for sometime. 
 One lays it down with the feeling of parting from a congenial fellow- 
 traveller." — Shejjield Indefendent. 
 
 A Con^parative View of Church Organisations (Prin|itive 
 
 and Protestant). By J. H. RiGG, D.D. IJeaK fully with Angli.janism, 
 Presbyic-rianism, Congregationalism, Weslej-an Methodism and American 
 Episcopal Methodism, in the light of Primitive Church Principles. Third 
 Edition. Revised throughout and much enlarged. Demy Svo, 7^. 6 .>'. 
 
 " More than ever worthy of its place in ecclesiastical literature ; and 
 while its historical value is great, the treatise is not less remarkable for its 
 fair dealing in matters that too often stir the acrimony of sectarians "—The 
 ScoisJtmn. 
 
 Oxford High Ariglicanism and its Chief Leaders. By J. H. 
 
 RiGG, D.D. Dciuy Svo, js. 6d. 
 
 "An admirable piece of work, and can be cordially recommended to 
 all who wish to have a readable and adequate account of Oxford High 
 Anglicanism and its chief leaders." — The Glasgow Herald. 
 
 In the Banqueting House. A Series of Meditations on 
 
 the Lord's Supper. By Mark Guy Pearse. Large Crown Svo. Printed 
 in Two Colours. Art Linen, gilt top, 3.5 td. 
 
 " Thtfse charmingly written and beautifully printed chapters. They 
 are both spiritual and literary, the fruit of long mastery of the English 
 l.inguage, and of long fellowship with God." — I he F.xposiiory Times 
 
 Bryan Roe : a Soldier of the Cross. Sketches of Mission- 
 ary Life and Adventure in \A'est Central Africa. By Rev. C. R. Johnson. 
 Second Thousand. Crown Svo, numerous Illustrations qs. 6d 
 
 "His life was full of stimulus to others; and the little book which tells 
 the story breathes the same e.NCellent spirit. It .should be put into the 
 hands of all friends of mis>ions, young and old." — The Chris t'uai. 
 
 Alys of Lutterworth : A Story of the Times of Wiclif. By 
 
 Kate T. Sizer, Author of "Dickon o' Greenwood," " Avice Tennant's 
 Pilgrimage," etc. Illustrated. Crov.m Svo, is. 
 
 " We heartily commend this little volume to all who would .seek for them- 
 .selves, or for others, a thoroughly interesting popular sketch of one of the 
 most important periods of our history." — The i\'e2u Age. 
 
 D'S^g^ing Ditct]es, aqd ott^er Sermoi^s to Boys ar\d Girls. 
 
 By Rev. Frederic B. Cowl. Small Crown Svo, is. 6d. 
 
 " Short, simply worded, charged with moral lessons of moment, and as 
 full of interest as an egg is full of meat ; . . . might be taken as models 
 of their kind." — Christian Age. 
 
 Joseph Garibaldi : Patriot and Soldier. By R. Corlett- 
 
 CowELi.. Crown Svo. Thirteen Illustrations. \i. 
 
 A Pior\eer of Social Christianity: Count Zinzendorf. By 
 
 Felix Eovet. Translated, Abridged, and Adapted by Rev. T. A. Seed. 
 Crown Svo. With Portrait and several rare and curious Illustrations. 2S. 
 
 Ran]b!es iq Central Cl]ir\a. By Rev. W. A. Cornaby, 
 
 Author of "A String of Chinese Peach Stones," etc. Imperial i6mo. 
 Illustrated. \s. 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And 26, Paternoster Row E.G.
 
 NEW AND RECENT PUBLICATIONS— a'«//'/«^</. 
 
 BY REV. EGERTON R. YOUNG. 
 
 By Carjoe and Dog Trail) amof^g ti\e Cree and Salteaux 
 
 Indians. Iniroduction by Rev. Mark GuyPearse. Ninciecmk J housand. 
 Wiih Ponr.iits of the Rev. E. R. Young and Mrs. Young, Map, and 
 Thirty-two Illustrations. 3J. 6d. 
 
 " Young and old will read this amazing story with delight. His heroic 
 journeys through the snow are described in a way that will secure the 
 attention of all." — SworJ and Tnnvel. 
 
 Stories from Indiar) V/igwams and Nortl]ern Camp Fires. 
 
 iVinth Thousand. Imperial i6mo. Thirty-two Illustrations. 3^. 6d. 
 
 " I regard it as one of the most fascinating, instructive, and stimulating 
 of modern missionary books." — Arthur T. Picrson 
 
 Oowikapun : or, How the Gospel reached the Nelson- 
 River Indians. Third Thousand. Imperial i6mo. Illustrated, is. 6d. 
 
 " It abounds in fine descriptions of Indian life, with its superstitions, 
 customs, modes of travelling, conflicts with wild beasts, and other thrilling 
 adventures, which will be read with almost breathless excitement." — Leeds 
 
 Mercury. 
 
 Three Boys in the Wild E^orth Land. 
 
 traled. Cloth, gilt edges, ^s. 
 
 Crown 8vo. lUus- 
 
 ^hc 
 
 a '^aP 
 
 Crown 8vo, price 3^. 6d. each Volume. 
 
 Life and Christ, By Rev. E. E. Jenkins, LL.D. 
 
 "Keenness of perception, soundness of judgment, and clearness and 
 conciseness of style . . . a rich storehouse of religious thought beautifully 
 expressed " — The Christian Advocate. 
 
 Laws and Landmarks of tt^e Spiritual Life. By Rev. W. 
 
 A. Gray. 
 
 " A volume of very marked merit. No better book of sermons has been 
 published for long, and it is a book which will bear frequent reading." — The 
 British IVfc/cly. 
 
 The Holy Spirit and Christian Privilege, By Rev. T. G. 
 
 Selby. Th'rd Thousand. Author of "The Imperfect Angel" and "The 
 Lesson of a Dilemma." 
 
 " Rarely have we met with sermons of such high and sustained excellence. 
 Mr. Selby shows a depth of spiritual insight, a wide philosophic grasp, and 
 a large experience of the varied exigencies of human life not often to be 
 found in the published homilies of the day. . . . Whether from a theological 
 or literary standpoint, these sermons will take the highest place among the 
 best published sermons of the day." — Bir)iiinxham Daily Gazette. 
 
 The Inspirations of the Christian Life. By Rev. T. F. 
 
 LoCKYEK, B.A. Second Thousand. 
 
 " Here is a book worth writing and worth reading. . . . The treatment 
 is Biblical, the spirit devout, and the whole well calculated to evoke and 
 confirm failh." — Sivord and Troivel. 
 
 The Discipline of the Soul : Its Aims and Methods. By 
 
 Prof. R. Waddy Moss. 
 
 " He is no ordinary preacher, but a Biblical Student in the truest sense 
 oftheierm. . . . We can commend the volume as graceful in style, scholarly 
 in treatment, and spiriiual in iouc." ^-Dundee Courier. 
 
 London: 0. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And 26, Paternoster Row, E.G.
 
 gooks iox ^ibk gtubcnta. 
 
 Editor: REV. ARTHUR E. GREGORY 
 I NTRODUCTIONS TO BOOKS OF THE 3IBLE. 
 
 The Praises of Israel. An Introduction to the Study of 
 
 the Psa'.ms. With an Appendix treating briefly of the Age, Authorship, 
 and contents of each of the Psalms. By W. T. Davison, D.D. 2S. 6d. 
 Third Thousand. 
 
 " As nearly perfect as a manual can be." — Dr. Marcus Dods. 
 
 The Wisdcn) Litsra-ture of the G!d Testament. (Job, 
 
 Proverbs, EccIesia^tes, Song of Songs.) By. W. T. Davison, M.A., D.D. 
 2j. 6d. Second 'Thousand. 
 
 " Dr. Davison has followed up his attractive volume on ' The Praises 
 
 of Israel ' by another equallj' attractive on ' The Wisdom Literature.' " — 
 
 Critical Revieiv. 
 
 The Books of -the Prophets v\ their Historical Succession. 
 
 Vol. I. To the Fall of Samaria. By Professor G. G. Findlay, B.A. 2J. dd. 
 Second Thousand. 
 
 "I have not for many a day fallen upon anything more fresh and 
 stimulating for the ordijiary student, more suggestive, fair, and adeq'tnte 
 for the expert than this volume." — Professor James Robertson or Glasi:cv). 
 
 The Epistles of Paul the Apostle. A Sketch of their Origin 
 
 and Contents. By George G. Findlay, B.A. 2j. (>d. Sixth Thousand, 
 " The reader will find here compressed into a small space what he must 
 otherwise seek through many volumes." — The Scotsman. 
 CHUr^CK KISTORY. 
 
 From Ma'achi to fdatthew. Outhnes of the History of 
 
 Judea 'rom 440 to 4 B.C. By R. Waddy Moss. qs. i>d. Second Thousand. 
 "Mr Mosss book is worthy of the series. . . His style is stiaightforward 
 and graphic. He can tell a story rapidly and forcibly. There is vigour 
 and there is vitality throughout." — The British Weekly. 
 
 Ir\ tho ^pcstolic Age : Tl*,e Churches ai|d t!]e Doctrine. 
 
 By Rev. Ron; rt A. Watson, M.A., D.D. Small Crown 8vo. is. td. 
 
 " Wtil-ntted to be used as a text-book. Dr. Watson writes with marked 
 independence although with ample knowledge." — Expositor. 
 
 A Manual of Modern Church History. By Professor W. 
 
 F. Si-.'iTER, M.A. Small Crown 8vo. is. td. 
 
 " Professor Slater writes so tersely and with so skilled a regard for 
 historical perspective that he has made the volume more instructive than 
 many more pretentious treatises are." — '1 he Scotsman. 
 
 A Histi-ry of Lay Preaching in the Christian Church. By 
 
 Rev. Jnnv Tf.lford, B.A. Small Crown 8vo. is. 6d. 
 
 " The history of lay preaching has been well told by Mr Telford in this 
 interesting volume, which should be found helpful to all who are engaged in 
 the good work of spreading the \iv,\\t."- -Daily Chronicle. 
 CHKISTIAN EVIDENCES. 
 
 Scripture and its Witnesses : A Manual of Christian 
 
 Evidence. By Professor J. S. Banks, is. 6d. 
 
 ■' May be commenred to the student for the clearness and ability with 
 which it is written." — Leeds Mercury. 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And 26, Paternoster Row, E.G.
 
 IPonks for ^ibU <Stulitnts(. — Continued. 
 
 THE SACRED LANGUAGES. 
 
 An !t\troduction to the Study of New Testament Creel^. By 
 
 James Hote Moulton, M.A. 3^. 
 
 A First Reader in Hew Testament Greel^. By J. H. 
 
 Moulton, M.A. dd. net. 
 
 These two books can be had bound together in one Volume for 35. 6rf 
 
 Translatio»\s and References to Moylton's First Reader in 
 
 New Testament Greek. -iS. net. Only to be had by direct application to 
 the publishers. 
 
 Aq Introduction to the Study of Hebrew. By J.T.L. Maggs, 
 
 B.A., B D 5J. 
 
 " I do not know any book within the same compass which approaches this 
 in usefulness for the beginner." — Dr. Moulton. 
 EXPOSITION. 
 
 The Ministry of the Lord Jesus. By Rev. T. G. Selby. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Third Thousand. 
 
 "A valuable contribution to religious literature of a marvellous amount 
 of sound knowledge, all the more welcome because of the vigour and frankness 
 of the v/riter's convictions." — Sheffield Independent. 
 
 Tl|e Sweet Singer of Israel : Selected Psalms Illustrative 
 
 of David's Character and History, Expositions, with Metrical Paraphrases. 
 By Benjamin Gregory, D.D. 2^. td. 
 
 The Gospel of St. John. An Exposition, with Short Notes. 
 
 By Thos. F. Lockver, B.A. -is. td. Second Thousand. 
 
 "A terse, fresh, and thoughtful exposition of the Gospel of John." — 
 The British IVeekly. 
 
 Tl]e Old World and the New Faith: Notes on the Historical 
 
 Narrative contained in the Acts of the Apostles. By W. Fiddian 
 Moulton, M.A. 2s. 6d. 
 
 " Written in a scholarly and interesting manner, will be of great value to 
 Bible Students. It puts an intelligent study of the 'Acts' within easy 
 reach of the ordinary reader, and could hardly be surpassed as a text- 
 book." — The Christian World. 
 
 The Divine Parable of History: An Exposition of the 
 
 Revelation of St. John. By Henry Arthur Smith, M.A. 2s. 6d. 
 SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY. 
 
 The Theological Student. A Handbook of Elementary 
 
 Theology. With list of Questions for Self-Examination and F.xplanatory 
 Index of Theological Terms. By J. R. Gregory. 2s. 6d. Eighth Thousand. 
 " Mr. Gregory is ... a born and trained theologian. And better than 
 that, he can write for beginners." — TLxpository Times. 
 BIBLICAL CRITICISM. 
 
 Tl]e Age and Authorship of tl]e Pentateuch. By Rev. Wm. 
 
 Si'lERS, M.A., B'.G.S. Small Crown 8vo. 3^. (td. 
 
 " At once popular in style and scholarly in substance. Of all the ' Books 
 for Bible Students ' yet edited by Mr. Gregory, none is more needed or 
 should be more welcomed than this." — Sword and Trowel. 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And 26, Paternoster Row, E.C.
 
 ClTo^rgright ®bition0 of popular ^tneriran Author©. 
 
 Overruled. By Pansv. Frontispiece. Crown 8vo. 2S. 6d. 
 Making Fate. By Pansy. Frontispiece. Crown 8vo. 
 
 2S. 6d. 
 
 " A story specially to be commended to young people. The tone is one 
 of practical goodness, combined with wholesome worldly wisdom. The 
 characters are natural, and the tale is told with considerable briskness." — 
 Sheffield Independent. 
 
 Wl]at tJiey Couldn't. By Pansy. Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, 
 
 IS. 6d. 
 
 " As morally healthful as it is delightfully natural. Every admirer of 
 ' Pansy' has a treat in store who has not read this beautiful story." — The 
 Sunday School Chronicle. 
 
 Guy and Gladys : The Two Small Westerners. By M. C. 
 
 Hyde. Crown 8vo. 27 Illustrations. 2s. 
 
 " A charming children's story." — Binninghatn Gazette. 
 
 " A well-written story, . with many bright and stirring episodes." 
 — The Christian. 
 
 The Gilead Guards: A Story of the American Civil War. 
 
 By Mrs. O. W. Scott. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, is. td. 
 
 "This is a most refreshing book — we might almost say fascinating — 
 whether for young or old" — Presbyterian. 
 
 " No one can read its thrilling pages without having their pulses stirred 
 by the record of the uprising of the Northern States for the maintenance of 
 the Union and the destruction of Slavery." — Canadian Sunday School 
 Magazine. 
 
 Ringit]g Bells. By Reese Rockwell, Author of " Grand 
 
 Gilmore." Illustrated. Crown 8vo, is. td. 
 
 " A charmingly written story of American life." — The Manchester 
 Courier. 
 
 "A well-written and healthful story, told with considerable spirit. The 
 interest is well sustained, and the characters are natural." — Ths Methodist 
 Times. 
 
 " Wai^ted." By Pansy. Illustrated. Crown Svo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 " Pansy's writings have an indescribable charm about them, and fascinate 
 us as no other fiction has power to do." — Sword and Trowel. 
 
 Stephen Mitchell's Journey. By Pansy. Crown Svo. 
 
 Frontispiece. 2.5. 6d. 
 
 '• Has all the graceful simplicity, earnest purpose, and practical godliness 
 which are so characteristic of Mrs. Alden's writings." — The Christian. 
 
 Twenty Minutes Late. By Pansy. Crown Svo. Frontis- 
 piece. IS. 6d. 
 
 " P;u'<sy is the author of some of the brightest and best story books 
 which have been issued in recent years. 'Twenty Minutes Late' is a 
 particularly lively and well illustrated piece of healthy fiction." — Lincolnshire 
 free Press 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And a6, Paternoster Row, E.C.
 
 Cops^^ifiht ©bitions oi l^opxxlnx ^mtxumx Authors. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 John Remington, Martyr. By Pansy. A Sequel to 
 
 "Aunt Hannah and Martha and John." Crown 8vo. Frontispiece. 2s.6<i. 
 " This is, without exception, the best temperance story we have read for 
 a long time. 'I'he teaching is pronounced, thoroughly up to date, clear and 
 outspoken on every phase of the question." — Tke IVesiem Temperance 
 Herald. 
 
 Her Associate P«1embers. By Pansy. Crown 8vo. 
 
 Frontispiece. 2i. dd. 
 
 " As a story writer we consider Pansy to be a specialist. For gentle 
 and simple, gracious and graceless, each and all, here is a bright and 
 beautiful book." — Sword and Troivel. 
 
 Miss Dee Dunmore Bryant. By Pansy. Crown 8vo. 
 
 With Frontispiece. -iS. td. 
 
 "We have no hesitation in saying that with each new volume Pansy excels 
 herself. 'A^nt H.'innah and Martha and John' pleased us more than any 
 other of her writings ; but the book now before us pleases us most. It is 
 touchingly simple. . . . We trust that this book may prove a delight to 
 many children." — Methodist Recorder. 
 
 Aunt Hannah and Martha and John. By Pansy and 
 
 Mrs. C. INI. Livingstone. Crown 8vo. -is. td. 
 
 " Both cheap and good ; . . . . written with skill and ability, and in the 
 interest of truth and righteousness." — Pritnitive Methodist Mai^azine. 
 
 "A very interesting story, well written and well \.o\d.."— Christian 
 Advocate. 
 
 Judge Burnham's Daughters. A Sequel to "Ruth 
 
 Erskine's Crosses." By Pansy. Crown 8vo. is. td. 
 
 "A book of pearls, and the lover of religious truth will be thankful for it." 
 — Hastings and St. Leo7iariIs Chronicle. 
 
 Eighty-Seven : A Chautauqua Story. By Pansy. Crown 
 
 8vo. ■2S. 
 
 " There is a bracing tone about the book which seems to stir one up to 
 make better use of life's opportunities." — London Quarterly Review. 
 
 "A healthy touching story, one of the best of the many good and 
 fascinating books for which we are indebted to 'Pansy.'" — Methodist 
 Monthly. 
 
 A Modern Exodus. By Faye Huntington. Author of 
 
 " Those Boys," etc., etc. Crown 8vo. 2j. id. 
 
 " Charmingly written, full of pathos, adventure, and exciting interest." — 
 Newcastle Chronicle. 
 
 " Marked by brightness of style and vivacity of sentiment . . . the 
 vigorous Christian tone of this book has no trace of sentiment." — Literary 
 World. 
 
 The Rabbi's Sons : A Story of the Days of St. Paul. By 
 
 Emily P. Weaver. Crown 8vo. Frontispiece. 2s. 6d. 
 
 " Admirably calculated to familiarise the reader with the life and manners 
 of the Hebrews in the Early Christian era. The subject is as instructive 
 as the story is pleasant." — Birmingham Daily Gazette. 
 
 Soldiers of Liberty; A Story of the Siege of Leyden. By 
 
 Emily P. Weaver. Crown 8vo. Illustrated, i^. 6d. 
 
 " A more than ordinarily vigorous and enchanting Netherland story." — 
 Lincolnshire Free Press. 
 
 London: C. H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.G.; 
 
 And 26, Paternoster Row E.C.
 
 ^heap (i:bition5 of ^Lbpu! 
 
 In Crown 8vo, clolh 
 
 ^toaraphicil. 
 John W3s!ey : His Lifa and His 
 
 Work. By Rev. M. Lelievre, D.D. 
 
 What ha did for Convicts and 
 
 Cannibals. Some account of the Life 
 and '>Vork of the Rev. Samuel Leigh, 
 the First Weslej'an Missionary to 
 IS'ew' ."^outh Wales and New Zealand. 
 By Anne E. Keeling. Iliu.strated. 
 
 Th3 L:fe of Thomas Co!!;riS. By 
 
 Rev. S. CoLEY. Abridged by Rev. 
 
 SiMi'SON JOH.NSO.V. 
 
 William Oawson, the Yorkshire 
 
 Farmer and Ei'~';r.er.i Prca'her. By 
 Anne E. Keeling. Illustrai.ed. 
 
 John Nelson. Masoi\ and Mis^ion- 
 
 arj- in the Heathen England of the 
 Eigiiicenih Century. By Anne 
 E. Keeling. Ilh-.straLec;. 
 
 F^emir^jscsnces of Isaac Wjarsden, 
 
 of iJoncaster. By John Taylor. 
 Sin:h '/'housaiiii. 
 
 Th,a Apostles of Fylde N'ethodisrti. 
 
 By John Taylc!K. With three 
 Portraits and Map. 
 
 Cl^ristianity in Earnest, Exem- 
 
 pliSsd in the Life and Labours of 
 Hodgson Casson. By .A. Steele. 
 New Edition, with Portrait. Tenth. 
 Thousand. Small crown Svc. 
 
 Little Abe ; or, The Bishop of 
 
 Eerrybrow. By F. Jew ell. illus- 
 trated. Eiiihteenlh Thousand. 
 
 The Backwoods Preacher. Being 
 
 the Autobiography of Peter Cart- 
 wright. Twenty- Fi/t'i Thousand. 
 
 The Village B!acksrr,ith ; or, The 
 
 Life of Samuel Hick. By James 
 Everett. Forty-Xin.h J housand. 
 
 The Circuit Rider. A story of 
 
 the Heroic Age of American Metho- 
 dism. By Rev. J. Eggleston. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 ^B %.. C (garl-ani. 
 
 Leaves from My Log of Twenty- 
 five Years' C/iristiun Work sniong 
 Sailors and ethers in the Pert of 
 London. Elnenth Thousand. 
 
 East End Pictures ; or, h^ore 
 
 Leaves from My Log of Christian 
 Work. Sixth Thousand. 
 
 ir JicUgious ^00 ks. 
 
 gilt lettered, \s. 6d. 
 
 Loving Ccun.sels : Sermor,s and 
 
 Addresses. By Rev. Charles G.^R- 
 I RETT. Fifteenth T/iousand. 
 
 I S»ct). SH. g;. tSatkinson. 
 Mccn-day Addresses delivered in 
 
 theCentral Hall, Manchester. Fifth 
 Thousand. 
 
 Lsssons of Prosperity ; and other 
 
 A-ddrcs-es delivered at Xoon-Day in 
 the Philosophical Hall, Leeds. 
 ! ourih Thousand. 
 
 Mistaken Signs ; and otfier Papers 
 
 on Christian Life and Experience. 
 Fifth Thousand. 
 
 *3i.) €. il. }3;trsons. 
 Th,e Man w/ith the White Hat; 
 
 or. The Story of an Unknown Mis- 
 sion. Twenty - one Illustrations. 
 Twenty-first Thousand. 
 
 ThiC Vicar of Berrybridge. Thirty- 
 seven Illustrations. XinthThousand. 
 P,oger W9r]t«fOod s Bible. Fourth 
 
 I'housann. Nineteen Illustrations. 
 
 ArriOS Trueiove. .X Story of the 
 
 Last Generation. Twenty-five Illus- 
 trations. Third Fhousand. 
 
 Strange Life Stories. Twenty 
 
 r.iustrations. 
 
 Oc3an Kay; or, Life at Priory 
 
 Farm. Seventeen Illustrations. 
 
 Caleb an,d Beckey. Illustrated. 
 
 *3ij g'lCb. John. ,^1. ^amforb. 
 Elias Power, of Ease - in - Zion. 
 
 'I iventy-fifih Thousaytd. 
 
 Johq Conscience, of K'ngseal. 
 
 F.'centh Thousand. 
 Fath,er Ferverit. Eighth Thousand. 
 Hugh Axe. of Hephzibah. Fourth 
 
 '1 liousand. 
 
 Tfie Tongue of Fire ; or, The True 
 
 Power of Christianity. By Rev. 
 William Arthur, M.A. 
 
 The f^iarrow of Methodism. 
 
 Twelve Sermons by Rev. John Vv't s- 
 LEY, A.M. With Introduction and 
 Anr.iysis by Rev. B. Gregory, D.L). 
 
 Tije ucurr^al uf V^r. John Kelson. 
 
 London: C. H. KLLLY, 2, Castle Street. City Read, E.G.; 
 
 .•\nd r^, Paternoster Row, E.C.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW.
 
 3 1205 02092 1712