Through the roar of laughter, which Geordie complacently accepted as the proper accompaniment of Tom’s defeat, a voice pierced suddenly with a shrill note as of a fife.
‘Thoo great clumsy lubbert, see what thoo’s done! Thoo’s broke the hammer’s head off! That’s half a crown, my man, for the hammer, an’ a penny for the shot; an’ if thoo disn’t hand it ower, I’ll call the pollis, for it’s fair takin’ the livin’ oot ov a poor weeda woman’s mouth to break her hammer thet fashion!’ and a thin-faced female, with a red-lined nose, sharp cheekbones, and watery eyes, held up two skinny fists in anger against him.
‘Gan on, woman, gan on!’ retorted Geordie indignantly; ‘wey, it’s thoo sh’d pay us, or gie us a cigyar, or a cokienut; for that bat o’ mine hit the bull’s-eye, Aa’s warned.’
The shrill-voiced female renewed her protestations, and some of the bystanders joined in with additional explanations; but Geordie would have none of them. ‘Gan on,’ he retorted; ‘gan awa home, an’ wesh yor feyce! Wey, the hammer’s as rotten as pash, for Aa brought her fair doon like a pick reet on top o’ the stump. What else should maa hands be tinglin’ for?’
The proprietress of the hammer, however, continued to assail Geordie with abuse, while at the same time the ‘fancy’ wife upon his other side endeavoured to drag him away, so that it need not surprise us if Geordie suddenly lost his temper, and turned heavily upon his tormentors.
He shook off the one, and flung down a shilling in payment of the supposed damage to the hammer; the other—the ‘fancy’ wife—he pushed roughly from him, with the result that she lost her balance, and fell whimpering in the mud, while Geordie lurched off to the nearest hostelry, muttering indignantly as he went, ‘Aa’s been fair mucked ower wi’ women the day—just fair mucked ower.’
A swift inspiration gleamed in Mary’s mind. For the punishment of Geordie she had already made due preparation, and now, if she could only persuade the ‘fancy’ wife, her triumph would be complete.
She noticed the woman angrily brushing the muck off her ‘feast gown,’ and at once made her way up to her and touched her gently on the arm. ‘Ay,’ she said quietly, as the other looked up with red and testy face, ‘an’ it’s the same way he treats me;’ holding her left hand loosely so that her marriage-ring was plainly conspicuous.
‘So he has a lawful wife, an’ yore her?’ And the speaker gave a suspicious, all-embracing stare. ‘Well,’ she continued slowly, jealousy slipping, like some slow portcullis, from her eyes, ‘he’s had a change, has my lord! Forst, it was a thin lass like yorsel’, an’ noo it’s a plump one like me. Ay, he’s greedy, is Geordie; he winna be content wi’ the one, like Jack Spratt, but wants both.’
‘Ay, lass,’ replied the other woman quietly, ‘yore right: he’s greedy an’ selfish. That’s the sort—a selfish good-like nowt, that lives on women, makes them keep him through life just as one does a babby; an’ he’s treated the pair ov us shameful—just shameful; but, hinny, I’ve a plan for a bit payment for him, an’ if ye come aside a bit wi’ me, I’ll tell ye o’t.’ And she laid an appealing hand upon the other’s, and affected with the disengaged one to brush the remaining dirt from the ‘fancy’ wife’s skirt.