‘And did she strike you as she struck the tackler?’ asked Mr. Penrose.
‘Did hoo strike me—? Nowe; hoo turned t'other cheek and geet a better and longer kuss nor th' first.’
‘So that is how Malachi won you, is it, Betty? The story is worth a chapter in a novel.’
‘Nay, aw wernd so easily won as that, Mr. Penrose. There were summat else i' th' way, and aw welly thought once he'd ha' lost me.’
‘And what was that?’
‘Well, yo' see,’ said Malachi, ‘Betty were a dipper, an' I were a sprinkler. And when I axed th' old mon for Betty he said as dippin' and sprinklin' wouldn't piece up. And then hoo were a Calvin an' I were a Methody, and that were wur and wur.
‘Th' owd mon stood to his gun, and wouldn't say “Yez” till I gave in; an' aw stood to mi gun, and to Betty an' o', an' towd her faither 'at aw were as good as ony on 'em. One day th' lass come to me wi' tears in her een, and said:
‘“Malachi, didsto ever read Solomon's Song?”
‘“Yi, forsure aw did. Why doesto ax me that question?”
‘“Doesto remember th' seventh verse o' th' last chapter?” hoo said.