The Broad Highway - Page 303/374

"Peter," said the Ancient, after we had gone a little way,

"Peter, I do 'opes as you aren't been an' gone an' rose my Prue's

'opes only to dash 'em down again."

"I can but do my best, Ancient."

"Old Un," said Simon, "'tweren't Peter as rose 'er 'opes,

'twere you; Peter never said nowt about bringin' Jarge 'ome--"

"Simon," commanded the Ancient, "hold thy tongue, lad; I says

again, if Peter's been an' rose Prue's 'opes only to dash 'em 't

will be a bad day for Prue, you mark my words; Prue's a lass as

don't love easy, an' don't forget easy."

"Why, true, Gaffer, true, God bless 'er!"

"She be one as 'ud pine--slow an' quiet, like a flower in the

woods, or a leaf in autumn--ah! fade, she would, fade an' fade!"

"Well, she bean't a-goin' to do no fadin', please the Lord!"

"Not if me an' Peter an' you can 'elp it, Simon, my bye--but we

'm but poor worms, arter all, as the Bible says; an' if Peter 'as

been an' rose 'er 'opes o' freein' Jarge, an' don't free Jarge

--if Jarge should 'ave to go a convic' to Austrayley, or--or t'

other place, why then--she'll fade, fade as ever was, an' be laid

in the churchyard afore 'er poor old grandfeyther!"

"Lord, Old Un!" exclaimed Simon, "who's a-talkin' o' fadin's an'

churchyards? I don't like it--let's talk o' summ'at else."

"Simon," said the Ancient, shaking his head reprovingly, "ye be a

good bye--ah! a steady, dootiful lad ye be, I don't deny it; but

the Lord aren't give you no imagination, which, arter all, you

should be main thankful for; a imagination's a troublesome thing

--aren't it, Peter?"

"It is," said I, "a damnable thing!"

"Ay--many's the man as 'as been ruinated by 'is imagination

--theer was one, Nicodemus Blyte were 'is name--"

"And a very miserable cove 'e sounds, too!" added Simon.

"But a very decent, civil-spoke, quiet young chap 'e were!"

continued the Ancient, "only for 'is imagination; Lord! 'e were

that full o' imagination 'e couldn't drink 'is ale like an

ordinary chap--sip, 'e'd go, an' sip, sip, till 'twere all gone,

an' then 'e'd forget as ever 'e'd 'ad any, an' go away wi'out

paying for it--if some 'un didn't remind 'im--"

"'E were no fule, Old Un!" nodded Simon.

"An' that weren't all, neither, not by no manner o' means," the

Ancient continued. "I've knowed that theer chap sit an' listen

to a pretty lass by the hour together an' never say a word--not

one!"