breathed. Eh! he was that bonny
an' sweet ...

"How is it, miss, 'at some grows up so crook'd an' others i' t' same
family never gives you a minute's trouble? Our Jane has been a comfort
to us both all her life, but Joe has broke our rest many a hundred
nights. He was same as he took t' wrong road from bein' a little lad
o' twelve. He would go his own road, an' it was allus t' wrong road.
He'd work if it pleased him, an' he wouldn't if it didn't, an' you
could neither coax him nor thrash him into it. His father tried both
ways, an' I'm sure I did all I could. An' the way he sauced his father
you wouldn't believe for a young lad.

"He had his good points, too, for he wouldn't lie to save his own skin
or anybody else's, an' he was as honest as they make 'em. But he was
self-willed and 'eadstrong past all tellin'. He used to laugh about
the devil, an' say it was all bosh an' old wives' tales, but if ever a
man was possessed wi' one our Joseph was when he were nineteen.

"There isn't a church for four mile; no, but there are two drink shops
easy enough to get at. Oh, miss, why do they let the devil set traps
to catch the souls o' men? They can't keep him out of us, God knows,
but they've no need to build places for him to live in, and license him
to do his devil's work. O Lord, why didn't You save our Joe?

"He came home drunk the day he was nineteen, an' his father was just
full up wi' grief an' vexation. An' men don't bear wi' it same as
women do. He put the Bible down on the table, Greenwood did, an' he
went up to t' lad, an' he said:

"'I won't have it, Joe. I've told you afore an' I tell you again, if
you're goin' to come home drunk ye'll sleep in t' barn, for I won't
have you in t' house.'

"Oh, I can't bide to think of it, but Joe swore a great oath, an'
clenched his fist an' hit his father in t' body; an' then Greenwood
seized him by t' coat collar an' flung him in t' yard, an' locked t'
door agen him. I shall never forget it. I cried an' begged him to go
out to t' lad, but he wouldn't. He said he could sleep in t' barn, but
until he were sober he shouldn't come into t' house.

"Well, I said no more, but crept upstairs to bed an' sobbed for an
hour, an' then I heard Greenwood shouting 'at t' barn was afire. We
all rushed out, an' there was soon plenty of 'elp, but we lost two cows
an' a lot o' hay that night; but worse than that, we lost our Joe. Not
'at he were burned or ought o' that so