had just narrated to Mr.
Penrose, and whom he still so dearly loved.

VIII.

MR. PENROSE BRINGS HOME A BRIDE.

When Rehoboth heard of the coming marriage of Mr. Penrose many
were its speculations on the woman he was taking for wife. Amos
Entwistle said 'he'd be bun for't that th' lass wouldn't be baat
brass noather in her pocket nor in her face'; to which old Enoch's
wife replied that 'hoo'd need both i' Rehoboth, where they fed th'
parson on scaplins (stone chippings), and teed his tung with
deacons' resolutions.'

Milly wondered 'if th' lass 'ud be pratty,' and 'what colour her
een 'ud be'; while old Joseph declared 'hoo'd be mighty
high-minded, but that hoo were comin' to wheer hoo'd be takken
daan a bit.'

The most philosophic judgment was that of Malachi o' th' Mount,
who, turning on Amos one evening in the chapel yard, said:

'Look here, owd lad; it were yor pleasure to stop single; it were
mine to get wed. We both on us pleeased aarsels; let th' parson do
th' same. He'll noan ax thee to live wi' th' lass; he'll live wi'
her hissel. Then let him pleease hissel.'

One or two of the women vexed themselves as to whether she would
be a Martha or a Mary; and when Deborah Heap was appealed to she
said, 'Let's hope hoo'll be a bit o' both.'

Old Joseph, overhearing this last remark, injected his venom by
hinting that 'no doubt hoo'd be a Mary, but that th' maister at
whose feet hoo'd sit would be a different sort to Him as went to
Bethany.'

Then it was Abraham Lord's wife suggested that Joseph should 'find
th' parson a pair o' wings, so as he might mate hissel wi' a
angel, for she was sure naught less 'ud suit Rehoboth fo'k.' And
Oliver o' Deaf Martha's wife climaxed the discussion by saying,
'if that were bein' a parson's wife, hoo'd rather be where hoo
were, although their Oliver did tak' drink and ooine (punish)
her.'

'I'll tell thee what, lad,' said Mrs. Lord to her husband on the
night of the chapel yard conclave--'I'll tell thee what. I feel
fair grieved for that lass th' parson's wed. They'n mad' up their
minds they'll never tak' to her; and there's no changin' th' mind
o' Rehoboth.'

'But we'll tak' to her, mother,' cried Milly, crossing, with her
crutch, from the window at which she had been sitting, to take her
place at her mother's side. 'We'll tak' to her; aw con luv onybody
'at Mr. Penrose luves.'

'Bless thee, lass! aw beleeve thaa con. An' we will tak' to her,
as thaa sez