the pit that day, for I had happened a bit accident the day before
through a shot that went wrang on us, an' I was laid up i' bed for a
week wiv a bandage ower my eyes. I bear the marks yet,' and he pointed
to some small blue punctures, not unlike shot marks, that the
gunpowder had left round about his left eyelid and cheekbone.
'Aal I could hear was that he had been knocked doon biv a runaway
galloway pony that a lad called Harry Nicholson used to drive. Harry,
ye must ken, was a bit weak iv his intellectuals, hevin' been born iv
an ower great hurry like before his bit intellect had had time ti
ripen, through his mother's gettin' a gliff at an accident that had
happened her man doon the pit.
'Well, Harry was a driver, as I said, an' he an' the galloway was
comin' doon an incline wiv a full tub, an' the galloway, hevin'
bolted, dragged the tub off the lines, an' came blindly tearin' along
this side an' that smash up inti Jack as he rounded an awkward corner.
He was fearfu' knocked aboot when he was picked up, they said, his
head bashed in bi the tub's wheels, an' there he lay, dead as mutton.
'The crowner comes doon an' sits on the body, an' the jury bring it in
"Death by mis'dventure" slap off, bein' iv a hurry likelies ti get oot
for their dinners, an' there the whole thing would have ended wiv a
buryin' an' a gettin' up mevvies ov a bit subscription fer his missus
an' the bairn; ay, that's hoo it would have ended up had it not been
for "the Heckler."
'I wasn't allowed oot by the doctor, sae I was just forced to think it
oot aal maa lane--mevvies havin' my eyes blindfolded helped us a bit;
anyways, I lay there quiet i' bed an' found I could think it aal oot
like Gladstone; ay, an' I tell thoo that Gladstone an' Horbert Spencor
together cudn't have thought harder than I did at that period o' time,
nor have pieced the puzzle together bettor than us. It sounds like a
bit brag, mevvies, but it isn't, by Gox! it's just the naked truth.
'Well, there I lay between the sheets wi' my "linin's" on, detarmined
that if there had been any foul play nowt but death should stop us
frae findin' it oot. First thing I does is ti get the wife ti ask
Harry Nicholson in ti tea wiv us, so as ti hear aal aboot hoo it
happened.
'Well, efter he has been well filled oot wi' tea, an' spice loaf, an'
jam an' aal, I gets him ti tell the whole story, an' then I axes him a
few supernumerary questions.
'"Thoo'll ken 'Tom the scholar?'" I axes him--"him that's a stoneman
doon the pit, an' gans in for spiritualism an' sich like for his hobby
an' pastime?" "Ay," he says, "I ken him nicely. Wey, I been at some ov
his 'seeantics,' or whativvor it is he calls them, an' I have the
makin' ov a fine 'meejum,'" he says, "for I can parsonate folks ov aal
kinds, males an' females, wivoot any distinction o' sexes."
'"Ay!" says I, interruptin' him wiv a sort ov admirin' surprise i' my
tone o' voice, "can thoo, noo? Wey, thoo's a clivvor one, that's what
thoo is."
'"Ay," says he, quite enlarged at the thought, "an' there's some folk
says that I isn't quite right i' the head, but they couldn't parsonate
Alexander the Great--him that the sword-dancers sing aboot--like as I
can. Could they, noo?"
'"No," says I, "not they. They're not scholars enough for that, an'
mevvies they would be gliffed at it as weel. Dis thoo nivvor get a
gliff at the spirits?" I axes, careless like.
'"Not while I's parsonating, I divvn't, but whiles when I's doon the
pit I gets a gliff," says he; "it's sae dark an' lonesome i' places."
'"Dis Tom ivvor try to make thoo parsonate doon i' the pit?" I axes
him, "for Tom, bein' stoneman, 'll come across thoo at times drivin'
yor galloway."
'"Ay, I've seen him doon below," he says, "though he nivvor talked on
aboot parsonating, but usuallies passes us by wivoot sayin' nowt, for
Tom's a vary distant sort o' chap, thoo knaas."
'"But sometimes mevvies he would speak wi' thoo when he passed thoo,
an' other folks wasn't aboot? Did he ivvor talk on aboot the spirits
ti thoo at all? That day the galloway ran away, did he speak wi' thoo
that mornin'? Mevvies he did, laddie, an' mevvies he told thoo not ti
speak aboot it lest the spirits wouldn't like it, or some such kind ov
argument," says I, insinuatin' it tiv him like one o' thae lawyer
chaps iv a wig.
'"Ay, he spoke tiv us that mornin', sure enough, sayin' as hoo he
thought the spirits was vexed, for he had heard them callin' i' the
pit itself through the darkness, an' he wanted ti knaa whether I had
heard the voices same as himself or not. Well, I hadn't heard nowt,
nor had nivvor thought aboot spirits bein' doon the pit, but I gets a
bit gliffed myself at that, an' a bit later I ackshally heard them
speakin' aloud--sure an' certain," says he.
'"Did they gliff thoo just before the galloway ran away an' ran ower
poor Jack Jefferson?" says I.
'"Ay," says he, "I got a gliff then, for I heard the spirits' voices
shootin'[7] oot against us."
'"Gox!" says I, "to think o' that, noo! Wey, thoo gies us a gliff an'
aal; an' what dis thoo hear them sayin'?" axes I.
'"'Here's the parsonator,' they shoots out aloud, 'that calls us frae
wor rest. Lepp oot upon him, an' torment him! At him, Annexo!' or some
such ootlandish name,--'at him, spirits aal!'"
'"Sae thoo starts awa' likelies wi' the galloway at a gallop, an'
couldn't get him stopped on the incline?" I axes him.
'"No, no, I was ower flay'd mysel' ti do owt; but the galloway must
have gotten a gliff at something. I mind I thought I saw a flash o'
light just at the moment, an' the galloway he couldn't abide a sudden
light across his eyes, he was that narvious; or mevvies it was the
voice that gliffed him same as it did us; anyways, awa' aff he goes
wivvoot me, an' dashes aff doon the incline wiv us chasin' him an'
shootin', 'Woa, woo-h, Paddie; woo-ah, thoo daftie!'"
'"An' hoo far behind him dis thoo think thoo was when he come to the
corner where he ran inti poor Jack? Did thoo see Jack theesel', or
hear him shoot out as the galloway butted him?"
'"No," says he, "I nivvor seen him, an' I wasn't far behind the
galloway nowther, for as soon as the tub got awa' frae the lines he
couldn't travel vary fast, for it was loaded. Aal I could hear was the
bumpity-bump o' the tub, then smash inti the wall--smash--smash--an' a
crash as the tub swung ower an' dragged the galloway wiv it. I can
mind nae mair nor that, mistor," says he, at the end ov his tale, "for
I fell slap ower Jack Jefferson's body i' the darkness, an' pitchin'
full upon my head was knocked senseless, till they come along an'
picked us up. An' that's the whole story, Mister Carnaby," says he,
"an' I've done wi' the spirits, an' parsonatin', an' aal noo, for
they're treacherous things, there's nae doot aboot it," says he.
'Weel, that was aal I could get oot ov him, sae I gives him some
sweeties an' lets him gan, biddin' him not let on that I'd axed him
any questions, ye ken, an' efter that I lay i' bed thinkin' it aal
ower an' makin' up a plan o' campaign for when "the Heckler" should be
up an' aboot again.
'Efter aboot another three days I was allowed oot by the doctor wiv a
sort o' lampshade ower my eyelids, an' the next day bein' "pay
Saturday," an' the pit idle, I detarmines within my ain mind ti gan
doon maa lane an' hev a look round by myself; for it's no use trustin'
anyone else when ye've got a job o' that calibry iv hand, ye ken.
'I kenned where the trajiddy had taken place, o' course, sae I
detarmines ti gan ti the spot an' make a sarious of obsarvations.
"First place," I says ti myself, "there winnot be much change i' the
surroundin's, for it's a new drift in by there that they are drivin',
wi' 'Tom the Scholar' an' his marrow, an' not many workin'; an',
secondly, it's damp there wi' the salt water oozin' in through the
rock, sae that footmarks will have a good chance ti stand a bit."
'Noo, "Scholar Tom" had a tarr'ble large footprint, ye ken, an' it was
that I was i' search o', for I had my suspicions o' what might have
happened, an' I was convinced that that d----d, mistetched beggor was
at the bottom o' poor Jack Jefferson's sudden endin'--ay, an'
whenivvor I thought o' that fine, brave chap an' his bright face an'
his happiness, I says ti myself, "There'll be no rest nor pleasure nor
nowt for 'the Heckler' till the mystery's discovered; an' it's yor job
ti discover it," I says ti myself.
'He was bound ti have been there, for, o' course, it was him as
shooted out that nonsense at Harry that had gliffed him, an' dootless
it was him that had flashed his davy i' the galloway's eyes.
'Jack, d'ye see, would have been lousin' off frae his wark an' walkin'
doon the drift at that time when the galloway started off; but what
beat me was that Jack couldn't hev got oot o' the way i' time, bein'
fine an' active, grand at hearin' and seein', an' ne fool forbye that.
'Noo, just when I had detarmined upon this i' maa mind a sort ov an
inspiration takes us aal ov a sudden. "Wey divvn't thoo take that
driver lad alang wi' thoo ti show thoo exactly where the trajiddy
happened?" it says tiv us just as thoo it was a real, genu-ine voice
i' my inside. "Sink me!" thinks I, "it's a tarr'ble clivvor idea, an'
sae I will."
'"Has thoo anything else ti add ti that, Inspiration?" I axes it, an'
shortlies efter it says, "Divvn't thoo trust ower much ti what
Nicholson says, nor tell him o' yor plan beforehand, for he's i' Tom's
power, an' tarrified ov him," it says again.
'"Gox!" thinks I, "but this is the champion; wey, I's as good a
spiritualist as Tom himself."
'"There's one last question I must ax thoo," says I, for I hadn't
properly thought beforehand o' the difficulty o' gannin' doon the pit
on "pay-Saturday," an' that is: "Hoo i' the warld can us gan in-bye?
for thoo kens that naebody but the furnace-man, engine-man, an'
horse-keeper gans doon that day, an' if anyone else wanted ti, wey, he
would have ti get leave frae the manager, an' even then he would have
ti have a deputy alang wiv him. Answer us this, Inspiration," says I,
"an' it's a clagger for thoo, I's warned."
'But, mevvies efter two minutes, it whispers back two words, "drift,"
an' "beer."
'"Drift?" I repeats, an' "beer?" An' then aal at onst I sees the
implication, for I kenned the lodge-keeper at the head o' the drift
nicelies, an', what's mair, I kenned what Sammy Cuthbertson, the local
preacher, calls "the joint iv his harness" still better.
'Sae I gans up tiv him quietly, an' I says tiv him, "Geordy," says I,
"hoo much o' the best beer will five bob procure iv an emergency?"
'"Five bob," says he, vary serious, "will buy aal but two gallons o'
the best bitter, an' d---- the emergency," says he.
'"Dis thoo prefer it i' bottles, or iv a greyhen, or iv a pail--an'
aal at onst?" says I.
'"Bottles is no use," says he, "wey, the corks alone will mevvies take
a pint ti theirselves. Na, na, gie it ti me iv a pail for aal-roond
drinkin'."
'"Well," says I, "thoo shall have it iv a pail if thoo'll just let us
an' the lad here gan in doon by the drift for an hour ti investigate a
private matter o' wor ain--just a visit ov inspection. No harm done,
nobody need ken, an' up again within the hour, I'll promise thoo
that," says I.
'Well, his face prolonged itself at that a bit. "But if it was
kenned," says he, "I'd get my notice."
'"Nobody will ken but us three," says I; "an', look thoo, thoo shall
have the pail at yor dinner to-morrow forenoon," says I.
'That did the business for him, I's warn'd, an' he promises ti oot wiv
his key an' let us gan in by. Poor chap, though, he got his notice aal
the same, though it wasn't my blame: it was because he was ower-greedy
an' thought he could get another pailful oot o' somebody else later.
'Well, I says nowt ti Nicholson aboot gannin' doon the pit till the
vary mornin', and then I gans along an' catches ahaud on him, an'
says, "Ho-way,[8] thoo mun come along wiv us doon the pit, for I wants
ti see the place o' the accident myself, an' I hev arranged aboot
gannin' doon," I says. Well, he turns quite white at this, an' whines
an' cries not ti gan; but I was res'lute wiv him, an' tarr'fies him
wiv a hint ov a gaol if he winnot come doon and show us aal I axes
him.
'Well, we went by the drift and straight doon ti the "Number 3,
North," or "Joan" district, as we call it worsels, an' there we gropes
aboot the trolley-way, just at the corner where the accident must have
taken place, an' searched for footmarks.
'The lad, ye ken, must just have started frae the putter's flat wiv a
full tub, an' aboot thirty yards doon he must have been gliffed.
Hereaboots, iv a fenced place, Tom must have waited on Jack's "loosin'
off" frae his wark, an' another ten yards further on is where the
galloway must have run awa' off frae the rails. I had it aal mapped
oot ready i' my mind, an' it was just the details I had ti fit in wiv
it.
'There was mair tramplin' aboot than I had expected, what wi' the
galloway's stumblin', the tub ploughin' alang through the dirt, an'
the footprints o' the search-party that had come up ti the scene o'
the casualty; but for aal that, I could see here an' there the marks
o' Tom's big shoes, wi' the extry broad plates at heel an' toes he
used ti wear.
'Mevvies it wasn't ower much ti see, but it heartened us up, for it
conformed us i' wor opinions, especially the fact that wherever they
was visible they was close in by the wall-side, as if he had been
wishful ti hide himself as far as might be--a sort o' presumptuous
evidence against him, as the lawyers call it.
'"I will have ti gan back ti bed again," I says ti myself, "ti think
it aal oot properly, for though I haven't a doot about it myself, I'll
have ti convince aal thae thick-heads o' judges at my lord's 'Size[9]
before I gets him properly convicted, sae I must have it aal pieced
oot an' put together like a bairn's puzzle-map."
'Well, we was slowly makin' wor way oot o' the passage when I hears
something comin' up-by, creak, creakin' as it came. Weel, I's no
coward, I's warn'd, an' I'll face any man livin' that ye like ti
mention, but I got a fair gliff at that, for I couldn't make oot what
it might mean--Nicholson an' us bein' the only folk aboot doon there.
"Gox, it's Jack's ghost!" think I ti mysel iv a sudden sweat o' fear.
Sae oot at once I turns my davy (lamp), an' the lad's, fearin' lest he
might notice us, an' shrinks back inti the corner o' the wall as small
as could be, with the lad tremblin' aal ower next us. Efter a bit I
sees a wee glimmer o' light shakin' i' the darkness, then a shadow ov
a man behind it, an' slowly, vary slowly, as if seekin' something, it
mounts up the passage towards us.
'"Hist!" says I ti the lad iv a thick whisper, "just smear your face
an' hands ower wi' clarts, or the ghaist will cop us," I says, an'
grabbin' a handful I clarts his face an' hands iv an instant o' time;
then I scrapes up a handful for mysel' an' aal, but i' reachin' oot
for a good fill o' clarts my hands struck up against a sort ov a heavy
bar o' some specie or other.
'I gied a bit haul at it, an' awa it comes up inti my hands--a small,
heavy, but handy bit ov iron it was, mevvies about sixteen inches
long, wiv a sort o' knob at the end o't.
'"I'll have a look at thoo later," says I, an' claps it inti my pocket
wi' the one hand, whiles I clarts my face wi' the other. Meantime the
creakin' thing was drawin' nigher an' nigher tiv us, but the light wiv
it was tarr'ble dim, an' I couldn't have given it a name.
'On came the light an' the shadow, but the creakin' noise had stopped;
'stead o' that there was a squelch, squelch, as ov a man steppin' in
an' oot' o' mud.
'It passed us biv a finger's breadth, an' I almost shouted aloud by
way o' relief, for it was a real live flesh-an'-blood man, wiv a
fouled davy, an' no ghost--for ghosts canna spit, I's warn'd.
'"D---- thoo!" I was just aboot ti shoot at him, comin' flayin' folk
i' that fashion. "Who is thoo, thoo ----" when he stops short on a
sudden, just round the corner above us, an' talks tiv himself oot
loud. "Ay, it'll be just aboot here," he muttered, "that it fell," and
I could have let flee a yell o' delight that would have brought a fall
o' stone doon, for it was no other voice than "Tom the Scholar's"
himsel'.
'"Thoo b----!" I says ti mysel', an' clenches my fist tight; "thoo
b----! but I's copped thoo noo."
'"Tell ti me noo, Annexo," continues Tom, usin' the same furrin' sort
o' talk as he had ti the lad; "tell ti me noo where it lies--the
weapon that freed my destined bride frae unlawful arms. I mun hev it
back, for there's a d----d chap i' wor village that they call 'the
Heckler,'" he gans on, the impittent scoondrel that he was, "a daft
feller that's mad aboot dogs an' sic' like nonsense, but he has his
suspicions, an' mevvies might be dangerous, for he has been
questionin' my meejum, Nicholson, the driver lad. Speak then, Annexo,
speak, my beauty. Where lies my trusty weapon? Speak louder," says he
again, impatient like, "for I canna hear i' the darkness."
'Just on that instant I gets another inspiration i' my insides, an'
wivvoot mair ado I whispers oot loud iv a fine, feminine, and
superfluous voice: "Search ti the right hand a bit lower doon, canny
man," says I, "an' thoo'll find what thoo is wantin'," an' I held oot
my hand ready ti grasp his wi' when he stretched it oot.
'"Aha!" says he, quite gratified like, "sae thoo has found a voice,
has thoo?"
'It was nigh pitch darkness about us, for his davy had almost gane
clean oot wi' the clogged wick, but I could feel his hands gropin'
towards us, an' I says ti mysel', "Another foot, an' a murderer's
copped!"
'His hands came hoverin' ower mine, for I could feel the wind o' them;
in another second he touches us, an', grabbin' ahaud ov him by way o'
reply, I shouts oot, "Ay, here's Annex-us, thoo b----!"
'The yell he let oot was fearfu', an', startin' back, he dragged his
arm oot o' my grasp, an' then leaped forward iv a flash, ducked past
us, an' awa off round the corner he fled, us efter him like the aad
bitch[10] efter a started hare.
'He had dropped his lamp, an' it was darker nor Hell itself, but I
could hear him dashin' along i' front ov us at wondrous speed. Mad
keen I was, as I tore efter him ower bits o' balk an' stone lyin'
aboot doon the rolley-way, bended double sae as ti avoid the
roof-beams. Bang up against a door I comes, shakin' mysel' intiv a
jelly by the shock, but when I had it opened an' was through I could
still catch the sound ov his footfalls not far in front ov us. "He'll
have come a big bat hissel' against the door," I thinks ti mysel' as I
started off again, "ay, an' bein' before us he'll have aal the
obstacles ti contend wi' first ov aal. Huzza, ho-way!" an' I tore
efter him, a fair deevil for recklessness--makin' no doot he was for
the main rolleyway, an' sae oot by the main drift by which we had
entered the pit.
'There came the thud ov another door, an' I gans a bit mair cautious
like, fendin' wi' my hands i' front ov us. Shortlies efter I notices
that the footfalls sounded fainter-like; they seemed ti be comin' frae
the left-hand side noo an' not i' front ov us.
'Aal ov a sudden I minds mysel' ov a return air-way that would lead
oot by the main drift. "Gox!" I thinks, "thoo's hit the mark, but
where the openin' is I cannot mind, for it isn't travelled biv any one
barrin' the deputies. He passed the door i' front ov us, but bi the
sound he's ti the left hand ov us noo;" sae I felt along the wall till
I comes tiv an open way. "Ho-way," says I, mad ti think he might
escape us efter aal, "ho-way, thoo'll get him yet!"
'On, on I went at a reckless speed, ti make up for my bad turn, an' iv
another minute I gied tongue like a foxhound, for I heard him pat,
pattin' on i' front ov us. "I's copped thoo!" I yelled through the
darkness tiv him, ti tarr'fy him, for I heard him stumblin' amangst
some loose props or gear o' some sort quite plainly, "I's copped the
murderer!"
'Foot upon foot I gains on him; I hears him pantin' just a yard or two
i' front ov us. I grasps oot wi' my hands an' touches his shoulder,
an' he yells wi' terror, givin' a leap like a hare, an' slips frae
under my hands.
'Doon, full length, doon I fell wiv a smash like a fall o' stone, half
stunned, my head like a night o' stars.
'Suddenly there comes a yell o' horror--then a thud, a clump, clump,
an' a c-clush, an' then stark silence, an' doon, right doon at the
bottom ov a staple fifteen fathoms deep ten yards i' front ov us lay
aal that was left o' the murderer copped, clean copped, by "the
Heckler."'
FOOTNOTES:
[4] 'Mistetched' = spoiled; of ill habits. _Cf._ Chaucer's 'tetch,' a
spot.
[5] 'Cavil' = the quarterly ballot amongst coal-hewers for their
places down the pit. Seams differ greatly in quality and depth of
coal, and in ease of working. This is the miners' own rough-and-ready
method of adjusting the inequalities.
[6] The chairman of a local District Council is _ex-officio_ a
magistrate.
[7] 'Shootin'' (shouting). 'Shuttin',' on the other hand, would mean
shooting, whereby quaint confusions have occasionally arisen.
[8] Come along.
[9] The Assizes.
[10] Viz., Bonnie Bella, a famous greyhound of 'the Heckler's.'
'IN MEMORIOV'M'
'Ay, that's what 'tis,' replied 'the Heckler' to my query, 'it's an
"in memoriov'm"--Latin, ye ken, meanin' in memory ov him. The words is
alike, mevvies, but it's Latin language, I's warn'd, an' I howked it
oot upon that headstone myself wiv a clasp-knife.'
I knelt down upon the sandy dune and brushed aside the bents that
nearly covered the squat gray stone with their long lashes, and
eventually deciphered a straggling array of figures which for their
illegibility would have enraptured an antiquary.
'It was just below us,' continued 'the Heckler,' 'that I found his
cap, an' thinkin' him drooned, an' him bein' a favour-yte wi' me, I
just put up that bit stone for him an' carved his initials on it, an'
the Latin, an' G. C., that's for us, "the Heckler," ye ken, his mark.
But it was a false alarm efter aal, an' noo that Jim Hedley's a Right
Hon. Lord Mayor oot iv Australie, I's warn'd but when he's put under
the sod he'll hev a hearse an' four horses an' a proper musulyum'
(mausoleum) 'tiv hisself.'
'What made you think he was drowned?' I inquired. 'Did you think it a
case of suicide?'
'Ay, o' course I did; we aal did that, an' not wivvoot reasons,'
responded 'the Heckler,' 'for he was full o' misery at that time, an'
wanted ti get shot o' the whole lot ov it. Jim was a fine, tall,
proper lad--"bonny Jim" the lasses called him--wunnerfu' handy, too,
iv aal sorts of ways, an' as for behaviour, wey, he could talk ti my
lord as canny as tiv a pot-boy.
'Well, wiv aal these gifts o' fortune it wasn't surprisin' he got
hisself sweetheartin' wiv a young, bonny, quiet-faced lassie, daughter
ov aad Sheepshanks, the farmer, close in by the village.
'It was a bit lift for Jim, for she had some brass, but aad
Sheepshanks, he tries to forbid the "callins"' (banns) 'i' church;
"for what's a pitman," says he, "that a farmer's daughter should marry
on?--a dirty-faced, drunken, dog-lovin', gamblin' chep," says he; an'
a lot o' gob o' that kind, ye ken, bein' a red-hot Tory wiv a lot o'
Noah's-ark kind ov ideas iv his head.
'The lassie didn't think that, though; she just warshipped Jim,
followin' him aboot wiv her eyes everywhere, just like the aad bitch'
(here he nodded towards the greyhound beside him) 'does "the Heckler."
'Well, they marries an' has a bit fam'ly, an' Jim gans ahead quick; he
was marrow' (mate) 'wi' me as a hewer yence, an' then he becomes a
deputy, an' bein' a great reader an' a gran' speaker, there was some
talk o' makin' him wor Member o' Parlyment when he got a bit older.
Well, it had aal been plain sailin' for Jim so far, an' everybody
thought his success was sartin, but he soon came tarr'ble nigh makin'
a tragedy ov hisself, poor chap.
'There was a young widow woman came ti live doon here at the Prospect
House ower there. She'd been married on a fat old chap that had made a
lot o' brass i' the toon i' publics, an' they used to come here for a
bit i' the summer, an' when he died she comes doon ti the "Prospect"
ti bide for good an' aal.
'I sometimes think,' continued my companion after a slight pause,
'that it's a sair pity folks isn't sometimes drooned like kittens or
"put under" same as dogs that turn oot no use. It wud save a lot o'
misfortunes an' misery, I's warn'd, an' unless ye drooned a Gladstone,
or a John Wesley, or mevvies even a "Heckler," the world would be aal
the better o't.
'Anyways, she should have been drooned slap off as a babby, for she
was a rank bad un--just rank bad ti the bone--an' when a woman is bad,
she's just the devil's own viewer[11] or deputy, by Gox!
'She had been on the stage, 'twas said, at one time, an' there was
queer stories aboot her, so that the gentry-folk aboot here would have
nowt ti do wiv her, sae she had aal the better opportunity ti play her
tricks wi' Jim.