Mary Barton
ht beneath t
vil deed, no
living viol
s to Heaven wha
he chastening showe
for aid, and she thought, "If mother had but lived, she would have helped me." Forgetting that the woman's sorrows are far more difficult to mitigate than a child's, even by the mighty power of a mother's love; and unconscious of the fact, that she was far superior in sense and spirit to the mother she mourned. Aunt Esther was still mysteriously absent, and people had grown weary of wondering, and began to forget. Barton still attended his club, and was an active member of a trades' union; indeed, more frequently than ever, since the time of Mary's return in the evening was so uncertain; and, as she occasionally, in very busy times, remained all night. His chiefest friend w
gh that they wished her to understand 'what a good husband he would make, and to fav
me from her half-day's work at some tradesman's house. Mary and Alice had always liked each other; indeed, Alice looked with particular interest on the motherless girl, the daughter of her whose forgiving kiss had comfo
r above, who does plain work, and now and then a bit in your own line, Mary; she's grand-daughter to old Job Legh, a spinner,
ttle at the pump in the next court, and on the way she borrowed a cup; of odd saucers she had plenty, serving as plates when occasion required. Half an ounce of tea and a quarter of a pound of butter went far to absorb her morning's wages; but this was an unusual occasion. In general, she used herb-tea for herself, when at home, unless some thoughtful mistress made a present of tea-leaves from her more abundant household. The two chairs drawn out for visitors, and duly swept and dusted; an old board arranged with some skill upon two old candle-boxes set on end (rather rickety, to be sure, but she knew the seat of old, and when to sit lightly; indeed the whole affair was mor
ding carefully with the thin cakes, threatening to break to pieces in her hand, she placed them on the bare table, with the belief that her visitors would have an unusual treat in eating the bread of her childhood. She brought out a good piece of a fourpound
king young woman, with a careworn look; her dress was humble and very simple, consisting of some kind of dark stuff gown, her neck being covered by a drab shawl or large handkerchief, pinned down behind and at the sides in front. Th
. She's quite grand with her late hour
retty new blue merino, made tight to her throat, her little linen collar and linen cuffs, and sallied forth to impress poor gentle Margaret. She certainly succeeded. Alice, who never thought much about beauty, had never told Margaret how pretty Mary was; and, as she came in half-blushing at her own self-consciousness, Margaret could hardly take her eyes off her, and Mary put down her long black lashes
w good such things taste when far away from home. Not but what every one likes it. When I was
out it, Alice,
ter than Milnthorpe or Lancaster; and, lasses, I was young and thoughtless, and thought it was a fine thing to go so far from home. So, one day, th' butcher he brings us a letter fra George, to say he'd heard on a place--and I was all agog to go, and father was pleased like; but mother said little, and that little was very quiet. I've often thought she was a bit hurt to see me so ready to go--God forgive me! But she packed up my clothes, and some o' the better end of her own as would fit me, in yon
s of youth have worn themselves out before we grow old; but she looked so sorrowful that the girl
Alice? Did you never go home w
but first one thing came, and then another. First missis's children fell ill of the measles, just when th' week I'd asked for came, and I couldn't leave them, for one and all cried for me to nurse them. Then
ad not gone into se
thought I could go at a leisure time, and missis telled me I should have a fortnight then, and I used to sit up all that winter working hard at patchwo
, I should have thought that
er a lift, to going home to be a burden to him. Besides, how could I hear o' a place there? Anyways I thought it best to stay, tho
t you thought right,"
th' lining, George came in one evening to tell me mother was dead. I cried many a night at after; I'd no time for crying by day, for that missis was terrible strict; she would not hearken to my going to th' funeral; and indeed I would have been too late,
etty place?"
eem to go up into th' skies, not near may be, but that makes them all the bonnier. I used
golden hil
sall ne
ng-bee for ever sounding among it. Mother used to send Sally and me out to gather ling and heather for besoms, and it was such pleasant work! We used to come home of an evening loaded so as you could not see us, for all that it was so light to carry. And then mother would make us sit down under the old hawthorn tree (where we used to make our house among the great roots as stood above th' ground), to pick and t
been in all these ma
n six to himself), Will, as I was telling you on; and I took him myself, and left service to make a bit on a home-place for him, and a fine lad he was, the very spit of his father as to looks, only steadier. For he was steady, although nought would serve him but going to sea. I tried all I could to set him again a sailor's life. Says I, 'Folks is as sick as dogs all the time they're at sea. Your own mother telled me (for she came from foreign parts, being a Manx woman) that she'd ha' thanked any one for throwing her into the water.' Nay, I
t and demure, that Mary was in doubt if she were not really ignorant. Not that Mary's knowledge was very
hts, which they suspected had wandered to the home and scenes of her childhood, were silent. All at
lf, but folks say Marget is a rare singer, and I know she can make me cry at any
amused at Alice's choice
u are Lancashire born and bred, for it is a co
LDHAM
on-weyver, as mo
yeat, an' oi've wo
' tuppence for
brosten, an' stu
ink it
wt into t
, an' do th' b
illy's kept te
er toimes if I'd
ng, till oi've nea
eeart oi'se soon
y's weel
r wur c
picked ower
I
eek--thinking aitc
hifted, till neaw
ettles, whoile
orridge the be
llin' y
find fo
in' na bet
ans sent th' b
oi eawed him, a
lat, fur owd Bi
n' cart, an' ta'en
left bo' th
seeats
ceawred Ma
leuked reawnd as
w t' goods were ta'
h' tother, "Aws go
freet, mon, yeau
de no m
d up th' e
leet, whack-
awr Marget, as we
lower i' this w
awtern, oi'm su
y heart we're boo
at we h
ms t' w
e as good lo
I
lares had hoo c
Lunnon an' talk
na awtered when t
olved t' sew up
to say aga
oikes a f
oo can tell wh
y pathetic song. Margaret had both witnessed the destitution, and had the heart to feel it, and withal, her voice was of that rich and rare order, which does not require any great compass of notes to make itself appreciated. Alice had her quiet enjoyment of tears. But Ma
ling to lose a note, it was so clear, so perfect, so imploring. A far more correct musician than Mary might have paused with equal admiration of the really scientific knowledge with which the poor depressed-looki
o resumed her calm, demure manner, much to Mary's wonder, for she looked at her unweariedl
iet enough to hear a fine, though rather quavering, male vo
"I must be going, for he said he sh
avy wash at Mrs Simpson's; but I shall be terrible glad to see you
her, Margaret said: "Just step in, and see
ry con