Oh, mother! mother!
“But that comes o’ your father encouragin’ her an’ laughin’ at her answerin’ back, when it would seem her better to hearken to what I have to say an’ be thankful ’oo has a aunt to tak’ pains wi’ her.”
“Aw dunnot doubt ’oo is,” I cried.
“An’ Mary’s noan ’bout brass, an’ though awst allus hold ’at it’s better to ha’ a fortin’ in a wife nor wi’ a wife, there’s summat i’ what th’ owd Quaker said, ’at it wer’ just as easy to fall i’ love where brass was as where it wasn’t. Ever sin’ my sister died, an’ Mary wer’ left o’ mi hands, her fortin’ has been out at interest, an’ we’n charged her nowt for her keep.”
“Aw should think not, indeed,” I cried, indignant at the very thought.
“There’s them ’at would,” said my mother tartly.
“We’re not o’ that breed, aw hope,” I said. “Anyways we ha’ not, so tha needn’t fluster thissen, though aw’ll tell thee, Ben, it’s better to be a bit too keen about brass nor a lump too careless. So Mary ’ll ha’ more nor her smock to her back, wed who she will, an’ a handy lass in a house, an’ th’ best of trainin, as all the country side will tell yo’. An’ for my part, when th’ parents is agreeable, an’ plenty o’ room i’ th’ house, an’ there’s th’ spare bedroom, an’ we could fit th’ lumber hoil up for th’ childer, an’ when yo’ve made up yo’r mind, it’s no good wastin’ time; an’ Easter’ll soon be here, an’ aw shouldn’t like a weddin’ ’atween Easter an’ Whissunday. Tha’d better see what Mary says, an’ aw’ll speak to yo’r father afore th’ week’s out.”
“But, mother,” I cried, “Mary’s nivver given me a thowt that way. Aw’m sure she just thinks o’ me as a brother. Aw shud only fley her an’ happen mak’ it uneasy for her to live here, if aw said owt and she didn’t like th’ thowts on it.”
“Who said she had given thee a thowt that way? Aw sud think she knows what becomes her better nor to be lettin’ her mind things till th’ man speaks. But Mary’s a good lass, an’ I’ll go bail ’oll wed to please them as brought her up.”
“Did yo, mother?” I asked with malice, for my father and mother had been married at Almondbury out of our parish, taking French leave of her folk. And as my mother rallied her thoughts for a reply, I made my escape to bed.