ackler put his arm raand Betty, I were through
th' dur and down th' alley wi' a hop, skip and jump, and hed him
on th' floor before yo' could caant twice two. We rowl'd o'er
together, for he were a bigger mon nor me, an' I geet my yed
jowled agen th' frame o' th' loom. But I were no white-plucked un,
an' aw made for him as if aw meant it. He were one too mony,
however, for he up wi' his screw-key and laid mi yed open, an'
I've carried this mark ever sin'.' And the old man pointed to a
scar, long since healed, in his forehead. 'Then they poo'd us
apart, an' said we mutn't feight among th' machinery, so we geet
up an' agreed to feight it aat i' th' Far Holme meadow that neet,
an' we did. We fought for over hawve an haar, summat like fifteen
raands, punsin' and o' (kicking with clogs). As aw told yo', he
were th' bigger mon; bud then aw hed a bit o' science o' mi side,
an' I were feytin' for th' lass aw luved, an' when he come up for
th' fifteenth time, I let drive atween his een, and he never seed
dayleet for a fortnit.'

'An' thaa were some stiff when it were all o'er, Malachi,' said
Betty.

'Yo're reet, lass! Aw limped for more nor a week, but aw geet
thee, an' aw meant it, if aw'd had to feight fifteen raands
more--'

'So, like the knights of olden time, Malachi, you fought for your
fair lady and won her.'

'Nay, Mr. Penrose, you morn'd think he nobbud won me wi' a feight;
he'd summat else to do for me beside that. Aw noan put mysel up
for a boxin' match, aw con tell yo'.'

'Nowe, Mr. Penrose, th' feight were nobbud th' start like. It were
sometime afore th' job were settled. Yo' see, I were a shy sort o'
a chap and back'ard like at comin' for'ard. One day, haaever,
Molly o' th' Long Shay come up to me when th' factory were losin',
and hoo said, "Malachi, arto baan to let Amos Entwistle wed that
lass o' Cronshaw's? for if thaa art thaa'rt a foo' (fool). Thaa'rt
fond o' her, and hoo's fond o' thee. If hoo's too praad to ax thee
to be her husband hoo's noan too praad to say 'Yea' if tha'll
nobbud ax her to be thi wife."

'Molly o' Long Shay were noan sich a beauty, bud aw felt as aw
could aw liked to ha' kuss'd her that day, an' no mistak'.

'"Ey, Molly," aw said, "if aw thought thaa spok' truth, aw'd see
Betty to-neet."

'"See her, mon," hoo said, "an' get th' job sattled."

'Well, yo' mun know, Mr. Penrose, that Betty's faither were fond
o' rootin' i' plants, an' as aw'd a turn that way mysel I thought
a