For your delectation, another folk tale of the North Riding of Yorkshire from the pen of Richard Blakeborough. This story appeared in an article in the Northern Weekly Gazette on the 15 November 19021BLAKEBOROUGH, R. ‘A KEPWICK MYSTERY.’ | Northern Weekly Gazette | Saturday 15 November 1902 | British Newspaper Archive’. 2022. Britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk <https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0003075/19021115/273/0031> [accessed 17 November 2022].
I was reminded of the tale as I descended Gallow Hill toward Kepwick village, a tale fitting for the approaching Halloween season. Once more, by clicking the footnotes, you’ll find my attempt at translating the North Yorkshire dialect.
A KEPWICK MYSTERY.
BY R. BLAKEBOROUGH.
Many years ago there stood a well-built and well-thatched house just outside the little village of Kepwick. At the date when this story opens a Mr Jeremiah Thwaites was the tenant. Previous to Thwaites’ arrival from Helmsley, a man called Goldsborough had lived in it all his life, having been barn under its thatch. There is some doubt now at to his name being Goldsborough, but there is none concerning the fact that a man known far and wide as ” Snouty” lived there from his birth, and was turned out to make room for a more worthy member of society, in the person of Jeremiah Thwaites. Snouty, whatever his real name might be, had wasted a nice little fortune in the enjoyment of midnight orgies and the like, which in time reduced him to so low an ebb that he had to earn his livelihood by undertaking any odd job, and, amongst other things, that of ringing pigs and bulls — hence his name ” Snouty.” In time he failed to pay the rent of the roof he had sold over his head, and so had to quit, which he did. But he did not quit the village. Like many another ne’er-do-weel, he hung about his old haunts, having fallen from the high state of “standing drink” to begging a glass from anyone who would pay for his ever-empty mug to be refilled.
Some few days before Mr Thwaites packed up his belongings and left the neighbourhood of Helmsley, his business took him over the moor and across Shaking Bridge 2upper Ryedale near Hawnby. It was at this footbridge, on his outward journey, that he was stopped by a witch whose name and place of abode has been forgotten. There is, however, some slight reason for believing the dame referred to was Dame Deborah — or “Au’d Mother Deb,” as she was more generally called — of Hawnby, a village situated not more than a mile from the bridge in question. If it was this old dame, we can get at an approximate date of the story, as Dame Deb of Hawnby is mentioned several times by Bessy Ellis as being alive about 1760. Let this be as it may, Thwaites met the witch at the bridge foot, who greeted him as he drew near:
“Thoo art a brave chap, Jerry, a verra brave chap — at least, thoo is if thoo’s gi’en bud hauf a thow’t ti what thoo’s venturing on. Bud thoo’d best draw back afore it’s ti late. Did ti ivver ken fortun’ ti foller onnybody wheea tak’s theeak fra yan ‘at war born unner’t, eh?”3“You are a brave fellow, Jerry, a very brave fellow – at least, you are if you’ve given but half a thought to what you’re venturing on. But you’d best draw back before it’s too late. Did you ever know fortune to follow anybody who takes that from one who was born under it, eh?”
Whether this thought had ever crossed Thwaites’ mind is not for certain known. If this was actually his reply, it would seem that it had not. He is said to have made answer:
“It’s too late now; I must leave where I am, and I must find shelter somewhere. It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame. Snouty has turned himself to the door, not me. I haven’t bought the place over his head. I’ve nobbut ta’en it by the year, so you can’t blame me.”
From this answer, which was, in fact, an apology to the witch, two facts stand out in bold relief : Thwaites was frightened at that which might arise out of what he had done, and he feared all those unknown things which the witch could, if so minded, visit upon his head. Hence his apologetic reply.
Paying little heed to his reply, the dame put another question:
“An’ what wad ta deea, Jerry, if yon place o’ Snooty’s war ti tumm’l ti’ t’grund, eh?”4“And what would you do, Jerry, if that place of Snouty’s were to tumble to the ground, eh?”
“Whya, in a case o’ that kin’ I sud a’e ti finn’d some other spot — somehoo — somewhere thoo knaws.”5“Well, in a situation of that kind, I should have to find some other place somehow, somewhere, you know.”
“Then what thoo could deea then thoo can deea noo, if so minded. Bud Ah ken ‘at thoo’s setten on for ti tak thi awn gate, an’ thoo mun gan it; bud think on ‘at Ah’ve gi’en tha a wo’d a’ warning! Good-day ti tha!”6“Then what you could do then, you can do now if you want. But I know that you’re determined to go your own way, and you must go it. But remember that I’ve given you a word of warning! Good day to you!”
What means Thwaites took to ward off any impending evil is not known, but we may rest assured that he would do something after such a meeting, warning, and parting. At that date superstition was rife throughout the dales, and in many a polite circle, too. Whatever he did, the result seems to have given him renewed confidence, for he removed his goods and chattels to Snouty’s house; but even whilst his were being unloaded, there was something happened which gave reason for grave concern. The witch appeared again, crying aloud as she stood in the middle of the road:
“Thoo’s banishing yan fra t’theeak wheear he war begotten, and drew his fo’st breath! Thoo’s driving yan fra t’grund wheear his birth-covering (i.e., placenta.) There’ll be neea luck, neea luck!”7“You’re banishing him from the place where he was born and took his first breath! You’re driving him from the ground where his placenta was [left]. There’ll be no luck, no luck!” Then casting a cloak upon the ground she jumped over it, spat three times upon the ground, and walked away, never once looking behind her.
It may here be mentioned that the house in question had been bought by a man called Hoggart, a relation by marriage of Thwaites’ (possibly they married sisters), and a native of Kepwick. It was quickly known throughout the village that the witch had foretold ill-luck to Thwaites, and truly her words soon bore fruit, for whilst helping to carry in a heavy oaken press, Thwaites slipped, and broke his leg —. And from this point we are, as often happens in such stories, left in darkness.
The injured man in time got better of his accident, and then, without giving any reason why, save that the place did not suit his wife, he decided to return to the neighbourhood of his old home. There were those who said that his wife had begged him to leave, she being desirous that her baby should be born under some other roof. Whether this was the truth, and the whole truth, we shall never know. “Shifting” in those days was not the simple affair of to-day, but whatever the reason might be, it was sufficient to send Thwaites back whence he came. It might be, as some whispered, that he did not wish to injure the letting by making public the real reason of his leaving. A new tenant was soon forthcoming in the person of a Mr John Rothwell or Rodwell. Whence he came there is no mention; if not from a distance, he was soon given to understand by some panting gossip that “there was summat queer aboot t’ pleeace.”
“Noo, then,” said the new comer, “you can ho’d yer clack. Ya can’t tell ma ow’t what Ah deean’t knaw. An Ah’ve gitten a charm strang eneeaf ti drive away owght ‘at’s witch-holden or stricken aboot this place.”8“Now, then, you can hold your tongue. You can’t tell me anything that I don’t know. And I’ve got a charm strong enough to drive away anything that’s bewitched or hovering around this place.”
What Rothwell’s charm was like I do not know, but the illustration shows such a charm. This was given to a lady in Swaledale “to ward an’ fend her hoose from all witch malice, and ill-deed, from all evil spell and charm whatsoever.” No. 2 held a power against fire and any sudden and great calamity. Both were pricked into, as well as written, upon a thick piece of lamb’s skin There was an incantation to be recited when these charms were used on certain special occasions, but what the special occasions were, and every word of the incantation, are all now forgotten.
But to return to Rothwell. He seems to have been a good-natured, well-meaning, blustering, bragging sort of a fellow. When he and his family, consisting of wife and daughter, the latter a young miss just turned eighteen, had been in the house a full month, a neighbour meeting Bothwell in the village tavern, in company with other nightly visitors, happened to say:
“And do you find to your liking up yonder?” Simple as the question was, it led to much.
After a moment or two’s hesitation, Rothwell gave his reply by asking another question. Said he:
“Look ya here, chaps! Ah’s gahin for ti ax a question a’ ya, an’ Ah want ya for ti gi’e ma a straight answer. D’ye aim ‘at yon house is haunted? Noo, Ah want for ti knaw, ‘acoz mah missus is nobbut a bit wankly at t’ best o’ times, an’ Ah wadn’t ‘ev owght come an her all ov a suddent — nut fer all A’s wo’th.”9“Listen here, folks! I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me a straight answer. Do you think that house is haunted? Now, I need to know because my wife is often not feeling well, and I wouldn’t want anything to suddenly happen to her – not for all I’m worth.” He waited for any of the company to say what they knew. But out/ more inquisitive than the rest said:
“Hez ta seen summat?” A question at taken up by the whole of the company, and an answer pressed for. Rothwell had no choice but to reply.
“Well,” said he, “what Ah’m going for to tell you I beg o’ ya ti keep amang wersens. It’s like this, ya ken : there’s some fau’k, if tha gat wind o’ what Ah’s boun’ for ti tell ya, wheea wad nivver rist whahl tha gat my missus tell’d, an’ sha wad tak the knowledge o’ sike a tale nobbut verra sairly. Sees Ah’s leead ti ya, yan an’ all, keeping a whisht tongue i’ yer heeads after what Ah’ve tell’d ya. Whya, then, it war t’neet afore t’las t — ay, o’ Wednesday neet — all oar fau’k war abed. It war ton’d nine of the clock, an’ Ah war aiming ‘at Ah wad tak mysen off an’ all. Indeed, to that end Ah war stooping doon for ti lowsen mah gamashes, when all at yahoo Ah seed close to me a pair o’ feet, an’ t’frill of a woman’s skirt. Just for t’moment Ah thowt ti myself it’s our Jinnie com’ed for summat. Mind ya, up ti then Ah ‘edn’t lifted my head. Yan o’ t’buckles o’ my gamashes war a bit okkard, an’ Ah war bent ommaist double. But a minute later Ah sat straight up. Ah ‘ed started for ti say, “My we’d, lass — ” an’ Ah ‘ed aimed for ti say, “Thoos gitten a smart pair o’ snake buckles o’ thi shoon—” Bud I nivver gat that said, for Ah seed stan’ning afore my een a young lass, wheee Ah’d nivver set my een on afore. Ah war that ta’en aback ‘at Ah did nowght bud sit an’ stare at her. Sha war stan’ning on t’ hearthstan, wiv her feeace ton’d fra ma. Noo, think on, Ah deean’t want for ti mak nowght na warse an’ what it war, seea when Ah say what Ah sat an’ gloored at it, that’s just what Ah did deea. Ah think — nay, Ah’s sarten — Ah nivver let my een rist on a better like built an’ shapely lass iv all mah wick. An’ Ah mind thinking mysen if when thoo to’ns thi feeace roond, it ought like matches t’back o’ tha, thoo’s a grand ‘un! Bud when sha did to’n her heead roond, Ali gat sike a start an shock as nivver afore. Sha edn’t a feeace ; it war clean knocked an’ battered oot o’ all kenning. It war all owered iv a jiffy, bud what Ah seed, Ah’s nivver fergit, an’ Ah wouldn’t a’s my missus see you seet fer all Ah awn.”10“Well, what I’m about to tell you, I beg of you to keep among yourselves. It’s like this, you know: there are some people who, if they catch wind of what I’m about to tell you, they would never rest until they got my wife to tell them, and she would take the knowledge of such a tale quite badly. So, I’m speaking to you, all of you, to keep a quiet tongue in your heads after what I’ve told you. Why, then, it was the night before last — yes, on Wednesday night — all our folks were in bed. It was around nine o’clock, and I was about to take myself off as well. In fact, for that purpose, I was stooping down to loosen my gaiters when all at once, I saw close to me a pair of feet and the hem of a woman’s skirt. Just for a moment, I thought to myself it’s our Jinnie come for something. Mind you, up until then, I hadn’t lifted my head. One of the buckles on my gaiters was a bit tricky, and I was bent almost double. But a minute later, I sat up straight. I had started to say, ‘My word, lass —’ and I had meant to say, ‘You’ve got a nice pair of shoe buckles there —’ But I never got that said because I saw standing before my eyes a young woman whom I had never laid eyes on before. I was so taken aback that all I did was sit and stare at her. She was standing on the hearthstone with her face turned from me. Now, think about it, I don’t want to make anything worse than it was, so when I say I sat and stared at her, that’s exactly what I did. I think — no, I’m certain — I’ve never set my eyes on a better-looking and well-proportioned young woman in all my life. And I remember thinking to myself, if when you turn your face around, it matches the back of you, you’re a remarkable one! But when she did turn her head around, I got such a shock as I’ve never experienced before. She didn’t have a face; it was completely disfigured and unrecognisable. It was all over in an instant, but what I saw, I’ll never forget, and I wouldn’t want my wife to see you like that for all I own.”
This story amazed and terrified the whole company. No one knew of anything which they could offer as a reasonable solution of the mystery.
“A’e you nowght ti say aboot this, maister?” asked one, addressing his question to an elderly man who had sat with closed lips from the beginning of the story up to that moment. “Come,” chimed in several voices, “let’s hear, Maister Faint, what you a’e ti say. There’s neeabody’s wo’d wad ho’d greter weight ‘an what yours wad. Can ya say a wo’d, eh?”11“Come, let’s hear, Master Faint, what you have to say. There’s nobody’s word that would hold greater weight than what yours would. Can you say a word, eh?”
But Mr Faint on that occasion had nothing to say beyond putting a question.
“Neighbours,” said he, speaking very deliberately, as was his custom, “can any of you tell me for a truth — l speak only to you older friends — whither went Susan Metcalfe, when she lett her granddame’s, twenty years gone this next spring? Mark you, I want not ‘some say,’ or the clack of women’s tongues; what I desire is to know for certain where is Susan — if alive — where is she living? If dead, where she died, and where she is buried? Before bidding you good-night, I would add my word to that already uttered suggesting the wisdom of keeping a still tongue in your heads,” and with that Master Faint departed.
“What is this aboot a Susan Brown?” asked Rothwell.
“Willy can tell you all that is known,’ said he of whom Rothwell had asked the question.
“Why,” said Willy, “there’s nut deal to tell, bud I’ll tell ya all I knaw. At t’fo’st, Susan cam’ tiv her granddame’s for t’good ov her awn health. I forgit wheear sha hailed fra, bud in t’end sha said ‘at sha was gahin for ti keep hoose for t’au’d dame. Sha war ez sharp ez a needle, an ‘ez wick ez a rezzil, an’ all t’young sparks — ay, an’ some au’d ‘uns, too — for miles round ton’ fair daft ower her. Noo, mind ya, although sha war mebbe at times a lahl bit miraculous, I don’t aim, an’ I alwus said so, ‘at there war owght wrong aboot her. Sha could a’e wed ower an’ up again. Ay, an’ amang them wheea war despert gone on her war poor Snouty. I alwus said ‘at it war through her giving on him the cold shoulder what set him agate drinking. Bud that’s nowght. Many another yan wad a’e wed her if tha could nobbut a’e won her; bud uz ‘at war wed seed ‘at sha war nobbut playing wiv ’em. There war very like a flash young spark used for to come an’ meet her, fo’st yah spot an’ then iv another, an’ somehoo it happened, like, without onny scheeming o’ my part, that I mair ‘an yance jumped wiv ’em. Susan wad laugh when I catched ’em tigither, bud I used for ti think, like, what her sweetheart warn’t ower pleased ‘at I sud see ’em tigither. He nivver leeaked up; he wad bend down — ay, deea owght for ti hide his face. I yance said to her — for her an’ me we were verra friendly — l says, ‘l’ll tell ya what, Susan, that young spark I see coming efter ya — he’s up ti neea good; I wadn’t trust him, my lass, I wadn’t, hooivver.’ And then there cam’ a day when sha ran away wiv him. Nobbut a few days afore, her and her granddame gat ti despert high wo’ds aboot her carryings on wi’ that same chap, an’ seea sha packed up a few things, walked to the lane en’, stepped into a chase an’ pair he had riddy for her, an’ away tha went; an’ efter that nivver a wo’d war heeard on her, an’ so yan can nobbut guess, like, what t’end wad be.”12Well, there’s not much to tell, but I’ll tell you all I know. At first, Susan came to her grandmother’s for the sake of her own health. I forget where she came from, but in the end, she said that she was going to keep house for the old dame. She was as sharp as a needle and as quick as lightning, and all the young men — yes, and some of the old ones too — for miles around town were quite taken with her. Now, mind you, although she may have seemed a little extraordinary at times, I don’t believe, and I always said so, that there was anything wrong about her. She could have married anyone she wanted. Yes, and among those who were quite smitten with her was poor Snouty. I always said that it was her rejecting him that drove him to drink. But that’s nothing. Many another man would have married her if they could have won her over, but those of us who were married saw that she was just toying with them. There was a flashy young man who used to come and meet her, first in one place and then in another, and somehow it happened, without any scheming on my part, that I ran into them more than once. Susan would laugh when I caught them together, but I used to think that her real sweetheart wasn’t too pleased that I saw them together. He never looked up; he would bend down and do anything to hide his face. I once said to her — as she and I were quite friendly — I said, ‘I’ll tell you, Susan, that young man I see following you — he’s up to no good; I wouldn’t trust him, my dear, I wouldn’t, no matter what.’ And then there came a day when she ran away with him. Just a few days before that, she and her grandmother had a big argument about her behaviour with that same guy. So, she packed a few things, walked to the end of the lane, got into a carriage he had ready for her, and off they went. After that, not a word was heard from her, and so one can only guess what the outcome would be.”
By the look then seen on every face there was something which carried a conviction with it that they one and all believed Susan’s lot had been that of all those who play their part on life’s stage not as a wife. It was whilst such a thought was still agitating their mind that the last speaker again opened his lips, and this he did suddenly, and with a gasp.
“Mr Rothwell,” said he, “it’s a despert queer thing, and it as nobbut struck me just this verra minute; but didn’t you say that the shoon you saw war clasped with a pair o’ snake buckles?”
“Ay fer sarten tha war. I observed ’em maist particular, ‘acoz I’d nivver seen my lass wearing sike a flash pair, an’ I wondered wheea sha’d gitten ’em.”13“I’m sure you were. I observed them very closely because I had never seen my girl wearing such a stylish pair, and I wondered where she had gotten them.”
“Well,” said Willy, “it’s a despert queer thing, bud I mind ez weel ez if t’war this verra neet catehing the young spark I’ve spoken of presenting of ’em to Susan. Nay, he war clasping on ‘ern on when I louped ower t’stile.”14“Well, it’s a right strange thing, but I remember it as clearly as if it were tonight, catching the young lad I’ve mentioned, ready to give them to Susan. No, he was holding them tightly when I jumped over the stile.”
It was one of those curious coincidences of which there are so many in life, and of which we note so few, that at this point Snouty popped his head in the room in hope of begging a glass.
“The very man we wanted,” cried one, pulling the ne’er-do-weel into the room. “It was you, wasn’t it, who seed Susan Brown tak’ off in the chaise?”
“Susan Brown!” gasped he. ” D’ye means —?”
“Noo, don’t pretend ‘at thoo dian’t ken whaw wa mean. Thoo wanted her for thi wife hard eneeaf yance ower.”15“Now, don’t pretend that you didn’t know what we mean. You wanted her for your wife hard enough once over.”
Pale as death stood Snouty, his knees visibly knocking against each other. Once, twice, thrice he strove to moisten his parched lips. At last he managed to gasp out in a hoarse whisper:
“What do you mean? Why am I asked these questions? I know nothing about Susan Brown. What do you mean? What are you trying to find out, eh? Which on ya is it what’s trying to stir up the muddy waters after all these years, eh? Ah knaw what it is: you’re setten again ma, an’ you want ti fix it on to me. You’re nowght bud a low pack o’ scoundrels.”
With those words he rushed out of the room. It was quite evident to all present that in the excitement of the moment, and owing to the suddenness and surprise, Snouty had been drawn into saying much which he had never meant should escape his lips.
“He mun be let knaw that Susan ez showed hersel.” And, indeed, it was not long e’er Snouty and the whole village knew of the fact. To this and a score of other wild stories was added a whisper that Snouty and the witch had a serious quarrel. Then one of Rothwell’s maids declared that the figure of a female — a young and beautiful young lady — had met her near to stick heap, and beckoned her to follow, which she did, she (the maid) at the time being under the impression that she was following some lady who wished to speak to her in private. She followed her for some twenty yards beyond the heap, to where there grew a bottry tree16The common elder.. There standing, she pointed towards the roots, and then vanished, where, or how, she could not say. This happened just after tea, towards darkening. Mr Rothwell, report said, was determined to uproot the bottry tree and see if anything, or person, was there buried. The tree was removed, and there was found the remains of a female buried there. That it was the body of Susan no one had any doubt, for her snake buckles were turned up in the soil. But the mystery of her death was never unravelled. When the good folk felt that Snouty must be asked to explain one or two matters, he could not be found, and it was not until some days afterwards that his body was cut down from one of the trees in the wood. What became of the young spark, why he never turned up again, or, if he did, how he was dismissed, and by whom, tradition has not left a word.
- 1BLAKEBOROUGH, R. ‘A KEPWICK MYSTERY.’ | Northern Weekly Gazette | Saturday 15 November 1902 | British Newspaper Archive’. 2022. Britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk <https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0003075/19021115/273/0031> [accessed 17 November 2022]
- 2upper Ryedale near Hawnby
- 3“You are a brave fellow, Jerry, a very brave fellow – at least, you are if you’ve given but half a thought to what you’re venturing on. But you’d best draw back before it’s too late. Did you ever know fortune to follow anybody who takes that from one who was born under it, eh?”
- 4“And what would you do, Jerry, if that place of Snouty’s were to tumble to the ground, eh?”
- 5“Well, in a situation of that kind, I should have to find some other place somehow, somewhere, you know.”
- 6“Then what you could do then, you can do now if you want. But I know that you’re determined to go your own way, and you must go it. But remember that I’ve given you a word of warning! Good day to you!”
- 7“You’re banishing him from the place where he was born and took his first breath! You’re driving him from the ground where his placenta was [left]. There’ll be no luck, no luck!”
- 8“Now, then, you can hold your tongue. You can’t tell me anything that I don’t know. And I’ve got a charm strong enough to drive away anything that’s bewitched or hovering around this place.”
- 9“Listen here, folks! I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me a straight answer. Do you think that house is haunted? Now, I need to know because my wife is often not feeling well, and I wouldn’t want anything to suddenly happen to her – not for all I’m worth.”
- 10“Well, what I’m about to tell you, I beg of you to keep among yourselves. It’s like this, you know: there are some people who, if they catch wind of what I’m about to tell you, they would never rest until they got my wife to tell them, and she would take the knowledge of such a tale quite badly. So, I’m speaking to you, all of you, to keep a quiet tongue in your heads after what I’ve told you. Why, then, it was the night before last — yes, on Wednesday night — all our folks were in bed. It was around nine o’clock, and I was about to take myself off as well. In fact, for that purpose, I was stooping down to loosen my gaiters when all at once, I saw close to me a pair of feet and the hem of a woman’s skirt. Just for a moment, I thought to myself it’s our Jinnie come for something. Mind you, up until then, I hadn’t lifted my head. One of the buckles on my gaiters was a bit tricky, and I was bent almost double. But a minute later, I sat up straight. I had started to say, ‘My word, lass —’ and I had meant to say, ‘You’ve got a nice pair of shoe buckles there —’ But I never got that said because I saw standing before my eyes a young woman whom I had never laid eyes on before. I was so taken aback that all I did was sit and stare at her. She was standing on the hearthstone with her face turned from me. Now, think about it, I don’t want to make anything worse than it was, so when I say I sat and stared at her, that’s exactly what I did. I think — no, I’m certain — I’ve never set my eyes on a better-looking and well-proportioned young woman in all my life. And I remember thinking to myself, if when you turn your face around, it matches the back of you, you’re a remarkable one! But when she did turn her head around, I got such a shock as I’ve never experienced before. She didn’t have a face; it was completely disfigured and unrecognisable. It was all over in an instant, but what I saw, I’ll never forget, and I wouldn’t want my wife to see you like that for all I own.”
- 11“Come, let’s hear, Master Faint, what you have to say. There’s nobody’s word that would hold greater weight than what yours would. Can you say a word, eh?”
- 12Well, there’s not much to tell, but I’ll tell you all I know. At first, Susan came to her grandmother’s for the sake of her own health. I forget where she came from, but in the end, she said that she was going to keep house for the old dame. She was as sharp as a needle and as quick as lightning, and all the young men — yes, and some of the old ones too — for miles around town were quite taken with her. Now, mind you, although she may have seemed a little extraordinary at times, I don’t believe, and I always said so, that there was anything wrong about her. She could have married anyone she wanted. Yes, and among those who were quite smitten with her was poor Snouty. I always said that it was her rejecting him that drove him to drink. But that’s nothing. Many another man would have married her if they could have won her over, but those of us who were married saw that she was just toying with them. There was a flashy young man who used to come and meet her, first in one place and then in another, and somehow it happened, without any scheming on my part, that I ran into them more than once. Susan would laugh when I caught them together, but I used to think that her real sweetheart wasn’t too pleased that I saw them together. He never looked up; he would bend down and do anything to hide his face. I once said to her — as she and I were quite friendly — I said, ‘I’ll tell you, Susan, that young man I see following you — he’s up to no good; I wouldn’t trust him, my dear, I wouldn’t, no matter what.’ And then there came a day when she ran away with him. Just a few days before that, she and her grandmother had a big argument about her behaviour with that same guy. So, she packed a few things, walked to the end of the lane, got into a carriage he had ready for her, and off they went. After that, not a word was heard from her, and so one can only guess what the outcome would be.”
- 13“I’m sure you were. I observed them very closely because I had never seen my girl wearing such a stylish pair, and I wondered where she had gotten them.”
- 14“Well, it’s a right strange thing, but I remember it as clearly as if it were tonight, catching the young lad I’ve mentioned, ready to give them to Susan. No, he was holding them tightly when I jumped over the stile.”
- 15“Now, don’t pretend that you didn’t know what we mean. You wanted her for your wife hard enough once over.”
- 16The common elder.
Leave a Reply