The History of David Grieve

aid David peremptorily; 'it ul

er, her lips sharply shut as though nothing should drag a word out of them, and her eyes blazing def

into difficulties in the Red Brook, and when he returned, his volume of Rollin's 'Ancient His

oppled over among the fallen stones with an e

ly recovering himself; 'yo keep yor

tervals, while David searched the corners of the smithy, tur

aughing, sat up, put herself s

e said coolly; 'I'm not to b

David indifferentl

boats from the hole near, and began to trim its keel here and

ept that morning into the omnium gatherum of her pocket. At

lly old secret

vid, holding up the boat and lookin

t, I'll put soom o' that watter down yor neck

nd yorsel in th' pan fust

inly than before, while the black eyes and brows seemed to have gained in splendour and effectiveness, from their simpler and severer setting. One could see, too, the length of the small neck and of the thin falling shoulders. It was a face now which made many a stranger in the Clough End streets stop and look backward after meeting it. Not so much because of its beauty, for it was still too thin and starved-looking for beauty, as because of a singular daring and brilliance, a

she said at last, getting up and

' was all David vouchs

ied him th

he ran down the slope to where one of the great mill-stones lay hidden in the heather, and diving into its

him with her hands behind her and th

ok and made believe to box her ears, t

laimed Louie, after a

own his boat

s aw-as soon as I can goo; as soon as iver I can hear of onything. An I'm gooin i

stared

passionately, as tho

r off. He thought she would have fallen upon hi

he got up and went to look, stirred with the sudden fear that she might have run off to the fa

ght of a bit of print cotton in a hollow just below the quaint stone shooting-hut, built some sixty years ago on the side of the Scout for the convenience of sportsmen. David stalked the cotton, and found her lying prone

dy's back up so, there's no bearin it. Don't take on, Louie. I'll coom back when I've found soomthin, an take yo away, too, niver fear. Theer's lots o' things gells can do in Manchester-tailorin, or machinin, or dress-makin, or soomthin like that. But yo must get a b

ly away from him, her thin chest still heaved with sobs.

hint, an I'l

midge like yo wi yan finger. I' th' second, hangin isn't a coomfortable way o' deein. Yo wait till I coom for yo, an

ed, that David watched her in a puzzled silence. Louie was always mysterious, whether in her rages or her griefs, but he had never seen her sob quite like this before. He felt a sort of strangeness in her fixed gaze, and with a certain timidity he put out his arm and laid it round h

lls do. I'm a brute to yo, I know, often, but yo keep aggin an teasin, an theer's niver a bit o' peace. Look here, Loo, yo give up, an

ow tears rolled down her cheeks, but she said nothing. She couldn't for the life of her. She blinked, furiously fighting

is rebuff. 'No, I sha'n't,' he said. 'Now you just listen here.' And he described how, the day be

e simply to the stress of his own affairs, and not to any knowledge of or sympathy with the minister's miseries. But, none the less, there was a certain balm in it for Mr. Ancrum, and they had sat long discussing matters. Yes, the minister was going-w

e on the way to no trade but loafing as you are now; but square

and said nothing. But to Louie he

Uncle Reuben, mebbe, ud be for givin me somethin to start wi, an Aunt Hannah ud be for cloutin tin him over the head f

yo get?' inquire

Ancrum can do as he says, an find me a place in a boo

ull yo do

' replied D

an firin, cloos, an lodgin to pay

with the practical knowledge her remark showed. How did such

'I'll get a room for half a crown-two shillin, p'r

torted Louie, 'cle

an had nobbut a few shillins a week, he made shift to save soom o' them shillins, becos he found he could do without eatin flesh meat, an that wi bread an meal an green stuff, a mon could do very well, an save soom brass every week. When I go to Manchester,' continued David emphatically, 'I shall niver touch meat. I shall buy a bag o' oatmeal like Grandfeyther Grieve lived on, boil it for mysel, wi a sup o' milk, perhaps, an soom salt or treacle to gi it a taste. An I'll buy apples an pea

r out of sheer spirits. Louie surveyed him with a flushed and sparkling

when I coom?' she

uffle, and took critical sto

stily, warned by her start and fierce expression. 'Yo know, they can ha th' law on yo,' and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the farm. 'Boys is all reet,

three parts convinced of them at any rate,

est tellin lees to get shut o' me. Nex summer if yo doan't

and began savagely to kick stones down the hill. Then,

ut on yo, Louie. But yo

hem, things he had heard said at the public-house, things he had read. He had never dreamt of leaving Louie to Aunt Hannah's tender mercies. Of course he must take her away when he could. She was his

broke in on h

llin a week-nine shillin I tell yo, an found her own thread. Yo'll be takin ten shillin, yo say, nex year? an I'll be takin nine.

y. 'An precious tired yo'll be o' settin stitc

er but what Uncle Reuben gave her, who passed her whole existence in greedily coveting the unattainable and in chafing under the rule of an iron and miserly thrift, felt suddenly intoxicated by this golden prospect of illimitable 'buying.' And what could possibly prevent its coming true? Any fool-such as 'Wigson's E

he warm breeze, its bright thin green shining against the brown heather. The larches alone had as yet any richness of leaf, but the sycamore-buds glittered in the sun, and the hedges in the lower valley made wavy green line

Louie s

ah shoutin. I mun

own the hil

ll?' she inquired mali

nce, an yo'll ha all the lo

Naturally he thought she was up to some mischief, and struggled away from her with an angry exclamation. But she held him tight and thrust something hard and sweet against his lips. Involuntarily his mouth opened and admitted an enticing

nscious of was not all in the mouth. Never that he coul

or the family, Hannah specially charging him to call at the post-office and inquire for letters.

meal during which no one of the three persons at table had uttere

was all

the food away with even greater rapidity than usual. The kitchen was no sooner quite clear than the donkey-cart was heard outs

e put down on the table. The

way,' said Louie, short

she wants owt, she can fetch it fro Clough

hands on the letter, which was from

eratively, 'tak un out

stool, occupying himself in cutting the pages of a number of the Vegetarian News, lent

ing the plate out of Louie's hands;

at's 'at?' he said, peering shortsightedly at what she held. Every month of late Reube

rtly, ''cos Aunt Hannah woan't gie

of trouble was unmist

' coo-

dinnerless boy deep, or apparently

Davy?' he asked him,

itin for th' second post, fust; then t' donkey fell down half a mile out o' t' town, a

ust his hands far in

n I'st mak yor aunt

d knees to me,' the lad broke out, and, springing up,

He went into the room, which smelt musty and close from disuse. Hannah was standing over the open drawer

oney?' Reuben said to

n, but she put what she held into the drawer

't

middle of the room. The light streaming through the shutters Hannah had ju

e said hoarsely. 'Yo'r

grimly, and wi

s as cost moor nor they pays,' she said, with an accent which somehow sen

aid Reuben, with the same thick tense utterance.

up to the do

mb of a niece? It 'ud tak about that,' and she pointed grimly t

hin. I cud wark a bit moor-soa cud yo. Yo're hurtin me i'

the wool mats and the chapel hymn-books which adorned it. His

e startled Reuben with a kind of horror. Whatever words might have passed between them, never yet that he could remember had his wife allowed herself a sn

the same bent and threatening position, coercing him with

. 'I told yo so afore-I woan't cry for 'im. But as long as Louie's here, an I ha to ke

d Reuben, instinctively putting out a

eplied Hannah, with a bitter sn

ith whom he had lived some five-and-twenty years, and of late the process had been attended with a kind of agony. The Hannah Martin he had married had been a hard body indeed, but respectable, upright, with the same moral instincts as himself. She had kept the farm together-he knew that; he could not have lived without her, and in all practical respects she had been a good and industrious wife. He had coveted her industry and her strong will; and, having got the use of the

sed stuff that Achan had brought into the camp-an evil leaven

a sense of shutting himself out from grace. He felt himself-by his fear of his wife-made a partner in Hannah's covetousness, in Hannah's cruelty towards Sandy's children. Already, it seemed to him, the face of Christ was darkened, the fountain

orgive him till her dying day; and the thought of m

n to his uncle's land, having apparently come down the Frimley path. When he saw his uncle he thrust his hands into his p

n, looking at him askance, and ho

,' said the

to look at him more directly, and, as he did so, something in the attitude of the proud handsome stripling reminded him of Sandy-Sandy,

Davy. I'll see y

ere is nothing more startling in human rela

the sheep-pen, he had a few hours before bound an orphan lamb to a refractory foster-mother. The foster-mother's resistance had broken down, she was lying patiently and gently while the thin long-legged creatur