w'd just walk up as far as his haase, and buy a twothree, and try
and hev a word wi' Betty i' th' bargain. So aw weshed mysel, and
donned mi Sunday best, and went up.

'When aw geet theer, Betty were i' th' garden by hersel, as her
faither were gone to a deacons' meetin' at Rehoboth.

'"What arto doin' up here, Malachi?" hoo sez.

'"I've nobbud come up to see thi faither abaat some flaars," aw
stuttered.

'"He'll noan be up for an hour or two yet," hoo said. "He's gone
to Rehoboth. Is it a flaar as aw con get for thee?"

'"Yi!" aw sez, "yo' con get me th' flaar aw want."

'"Which is it?" said hoo. "Is it one o' those lilies mi faither
geet fro' th' hall?"

'"Nowe," aw said; "it didn't come fro' th' hall; it awlus grow'd
here."

'"Well, if thaa'll tell me which it is, thaa shall hev it; where
abaats is it?"

'Mr. Penrose, did yo' ever try an' shap' your mouth to tell a lass
as yo' luved hir?'

Mr. Penrose remained silent.

'Well, if ever yo' did, then yo' know haa aw felt when hoo axed me
where th' flaar were as aw wanted. Aw couldn't for shame to tell
her. Then hoo turned on me an' said:

'"If thaa'll tell me where the flaar is I'll give it thee, but
don't stand grinnin' theer."

'Then aw plucked up like. Aw said: "Aw think thaa knows where th'
flaar is, Betty. An' as thaa said I mun hev it, I'll tak' it." And
I gave her a kuss on th' cheek 'at were nearest to me.'

'And did she strike you as she struck the tackler?' asked Mr.
Penrose.

'Did hoo strike me--? Nowe; hoo turned t'other cheek and geet a
better and longer kuss nor th' first.'

'So that is how Malachi won you, is it, Betty? The story is worth
a chapter in a novel.'

'Nay, aw wernd so easily won as that, Mr. Penrose. There were
summat else i' th' way, and aw welly thought once he'd ha' lost
me.'

'And what was that?'

'Well, yo' see,' said Malachi, 'Betty were a dipper, an' I were a
sprinkler. And when I axed th' old mon for Betty he said as
dippin' and sprinklin' wouldn't piece up. And then hoo were a
Calvin an' I were a Methody, and that were wur and wur.

'Th' owd mon stood to his gun, and wouldn't say "Yez" till I gave
in; an' aw stood to mi gun, and to Betty an' o', an' towd her
faither 'at aw were as good as ony on 'em. One day th' lass come
to me wi' tears in her een, and said:

'"Malachi, didsto ever read Solomon's Song?"

'"Yi, forsure aw did. Why doesto ax me that question?"

'"Doesto remember th' seventh verse o' th