nt up to the 'All to 'ave supper in the kitchen, and
drink ole Sir Markham's 'elth. Sir Markham come down in the servants'
'all and made a speech, and some o' the gents come down too; but while
things were a-goin' at their 'ighest, my father he says to me, "Jim," 'e
says, "if ever you want to go to Scotland you go across the moor to the
Burnley Beeches, and then yer bears off to yer right by the Ambly Arms,
three mile along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."
"All right," I says, angry like, "I don't want no Scotland; what d'yer
want to bother me for with yer Burnley Beeches, and yer Ambly Arms?"
"Jim," 'e ses solemn, "yer never know how useful a bit of hinformation
may come in sometimes; now," he says, "you'd better run over to the
stables, and see if all is a-goin' on right." Well, I see it was no use
argifyin', so off I starts. I sees as I comes near the stables as there
were a light there, as ought not to be, and o' course, I run back'ard to
tell my father, but lor, I thought he were off 'is 'ed, for all he ses
was, "If ever you wants to go to Scotland, Jim, it's across the moor to
the Burnley Beeches, off to yer right, by the Ambly Arms, three mile
along you'll fine the great North Road, and there yer are."

They'd been a-drinkin' a bit 'ard some of 'em, and I ses to myself
father's been a'elpin' of 'em, and I tears off to the stables to see
what was up.

Well, when I gets here, I comes in at that there door behind yer, sir,
and what should I see, but Miss Dora in Snowflake's stall, a-kissin' and
a-cryin' over 'im like mad. She didn't take no notice o' me no more'n if
I hadn't been there at all, and I came and stood ag'in that there post
as you were a-leanin' ag'in just now, sir. Little Dora were a-sobbin' as
if 'er 'art would break, and she were a-tryin' to say "Good-bye."
They're only little words, sir, at the most, but werry often they're the
'ardest words in all the world to say.

Well, sir, to make a long story short, it were just this: Sir Markham
had told 'er as she mustn't think nothink of young Markham's college
friend, 'cos 'e were poor and 'adn't nothink but 'is wits and 'is
learnin' to live on, and that the tall soldier 'ad been a-haskin' for
'er, and he'd promised 'er to 'im; and it 'ad clean broke 'er 'art, and
so she 'ad come down to this yer stable where everythink loved 'er to
tell 'er sorrows to her old pet Snowflake, to bury her face in his snowy
neck, and wipe 'er eyes on his