fret, for yo're welcome to me!'
Then they made no moor do,
But nipt up wi' owd stoo,
An' we both letten thwack upo' th' flags.

"Then aw said to eawr Margit, while we're upo' the floor,
'We's never be lower i' this world, aw'm sure;
Iv ever things awtern they're likely to mend,
For aw think i' my heart that we're both at th' fur end;
For meight we ban noan,
Nor no looms to weighve on,
An' egad, they're as good lost as fund.'"

We had something to do to get the weaver's wife to talk to us
freely, and I believe the reason was, that, after the slanders they
had been subject to, she harboured a sensitive fear lest anything
like doubt should be cast upon her story. "Well, Mrs," said my
friend, "let's see; how many are you altogether in this house?"
"We're two families, yo know," replied she; "there's eight on us all
altogether." "Well," continued he,"and how much have you coming in,
now?" He had asked this question so oft before, and had so often
received the same answer, that the poor soul began to wonder what
was the meaning of it all. She looked at us silently, her wan face
flushed, and then, with tears rising in her eyes, she said,
tremulously, "Well, iv yo' cannot believe folk--" My friend stopped
her at once, and said, "Nay, Mrs_, you must not think that I doubt
your story. I know all about it; but my friend wanted me to let you
tell it your own way. We have come here to do you good, if possible,
and no harm. You don't need to fear that." "Oh, well," said she,
slowly wiping her moist forehead, and looking relieved," but yo
know, aw was very much put about o'er th' ill-natur't talk as
somebody set eawt." "Take no notice of them," said my friend; "take
no notice. I meet with such things every day." "Well," continued
she," yo know heaw we're situated. We were nine months an' hesn't a
stroke o' wark. Eawr wenches are gettin' a day for t' sick, neaw and
then, but that's all. There's a brother o' mine lives with us,--he'd
a been clemmed into th' grave but for th' relief; an' aw've been
many a time an' hesn't put a bit i' my meawth fro mornin' to mornin'
again. We've bin married twenty-four year; an' aw don't think at him
an' me together has spent a shillin' i' drink all that time. Why, to
tell yo truth, we never had nought to stir on. My husband does bod
get varra little upo th' hand-loom i' th' best o' times--5s. a week
or so. He weighves a sort o' check--seventy-three yards for 3s." The
back door opened into a little