‘Better leave her alone, Mr. Penrose. There's an owd sayin' i' these parts that yo' cornd go into th' mill baat gettin' dusted. That means in yur talk that yo' cornd touch pitch baat gettin' blacked. If thaa goes to Mrs. Stott's they'll say thaart goan for naught good. If thaa wur a married mon, naa, and bed childer, it 'ud happen be different; but bein' single, thaa sees, th' aatside o' yon threshold is th' reight side for such as thee and me.’
(Amos, be it known, was an old bachelor of over seventy years of age.)
‘Nonsense, Amos; you are reversing the teaching of the Master. He went after the sinner, did He not?’
‘Yi, He did; and He lost His repetation o'er it. They co'd Him a winebibber, and a friend o' all maks o' bad uns. I couldn't like 'em to say th' same abaat thee. Rehoboth 'ud noan ston' it, thaa knows.’
Mr. Penrose did not know whether to laugh or to be serious. Seeing, however, that Amos was in no laughing mood, he turned somewhat sharply on the old man, and said:
‘The Stotts are in trouble, and they ask for my presence, Good-afternoon; I'm going.’
‘Howd on a bit,’ said Amos, still holding the minister by the lapel of his coat. ‘Naa listen to me. If I were yo' I wouldn't go. Th' lass hes made her bed; let her lie on't. Durnd yo' risk yor repetation by makkin' it yasier, or by takkin' ony o' th' thorns aat o' her pillow. Rehoboth Church is praad o' her sheep; and it keeps th' black uns aatside th' fold, and yo'll nobbud ged blacked yorsel if yo' meddle wi' 'em. But young colts 'll goa their own gait, so pleeas yorsel.’
At first Mr. Penrose was inclined to think twice over the old Pharisee's advice; but, looking round, he saw Mrs. Stott's sad face in her cottage doorway, and her look determined his advance. In a moment reputation and propriety were forgotten in what he felt were the claims of a mother's heart and the sufferings of an erring soul.
‘Ay, Mr. Penrose, I'm some fain to see yo',’ cried the poor woman, as the minister walked up the garden-path. ‘Amanda's baan fast, and hoo sez 'at it's all dark.’ And then, seizing Mr. Penrose's hand, she cried: ‘Yo' durnd think hoo's damned, dun yo'?’