kshir', lad?' he said; an' our Joe said: 'Aye! bred an'
born.' 'Let's hear ta talk a bit o' t' owd tongue, lad,' he said;
'aw've heeard nowt on 't for twelve yeear, an' t' missis willn't hev it
spokken i' t' haase.'

"Well, of course, Joe entered into t' spirit of it, an' the old
gentleman was delighted, an' gave him a job, an' he always had to speak
broad Yorkshire unless the missis was there. It wasn't exactly a farm,
but they grew fruit an' vegetables and kept poultry an' pigs an' bees
an' such like, and it was just to our Joe's taste. I won't deny but
what he's clever, and he was always steady an' honest. He says the old
gentleman took to him an' gave him every chance, an' t' missis liked
him too, because he always spoke so polite an' proper. An' then he
fell in love wi' one o' t' daughters, an' they were married last year,
an' by what I can make out he's a sort of a partner in t' business now.
Anyway, he says it's his wife 'at brought him to see what a wrong 'un
he'd been, and when he'd told 'em all t' tale nothing 'ud do but he was
to come to England and make it up with his father. So he's come, an'
mother blubbers over him, an' holds his 'and, an' strokes his 'air till
I'm out of all patience."

Farmer Goodenough looked grave, but he did not speak, so I said: "Isn't
this rather unworthy of you, Jane? Your mother is naturally glad to
see her boy back again, and if she had not been here you would have
welcomed him just as cordially."

"Would I?" she replied. "No fear! He gave father ten years of sorrow
an' brought him to 'is grave. I loved my dad too well to forgive his
murderer that easy. He's taken no notice of us all this time, an'
while he's been makin' money an' courtin' a rich girl we might all have
been in t' workhouse for ought he knew or cared. And then he's to come
home, an' it's to be all right straight off, an' we must have t' best
counterpane on t' bed, an' t' china tea-service out 'at were my
grandmother's, an' we must go slobberin' round his neck the minute he
puts his head in at t' door. Bah! it makes me sick. You've only got
to be a prodigal, as I say, an' then you can have t' fatted calf killed
for you."

"Now look you here, lass," said Farmer Goodenough kindly, "I've said
nought so far, 'cos it does you good to talk. It's poor policy to bung
t' kettle up when t' water's boilin', but I think ye've let off enough
steam now to keep from burstin', so we'll just look into this matte