e 't' maire at wor thretty year owd,
an't' feil at wor fewer.' On sitting down to the table, a venerable
woman officiated, and after filling the cups, she thus addressed me:
'Nah, Maister, yah mun loawze th'taible' (loose the table). The master
said, 'Shah meeans yah mun sey t' greyce.' I took the hint, and uttered
the blessing.

"I spoke with an aged and tried woman at one time, who, after recording
her mercies, stated, among others, her powers of speech, by asserting
'Thank the Lord, ah nivver wor a meilly-meouthed wumman.' I feel
particularly at fault in attempting the orthography of the dialect, but
must excuse myself by telling you that I once saw a letter in which the
word I have just now used (excuse) was written 'ecksqueaize!'

"There are some things, however, which rather tend to soften the idea of
the rudeness of Haworth. No rural district has been more markedly the
abode of musical taste and acquirement, and this at a period when it was
difficult to find them to the same extent apart from towns in advance of
their times. I have gone to Haworth and found an orchestra to meet me,
filled with local performers, vocal and instrumental, to whom the best
works of Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Marcello, &c. &c., were familiar as
household words. By knowledge, taste, and voice, they were markedly
separate from ordinary village choirs, and have been put in extensive
requisition for the solo and chorus of many an imposing festival. One
man still survives, who, for fifty years, has had one of the finest tenor
voices I ever heard, and with it a refined and cultivated taste. To him
and to others many inducements have been offered to migrate; but the
loom, the association, the mountain air have had charms enow to secure
their continuance at home. I love the recollection of their performance;
that recollection extends over more than sixty years. The attachments,
the antipathies and the hospitalities of the district are ardent, hearty,
and homely. Cordiality in each is the prominent characteristic. As a
people, these mountaineers have ever been accessible to gentleness and
truth, so far as I have known them; but excite suspicion or resentment,
and they give emphatic and not impotent resistance. Compulsion they
defy.

"I accompanied Mr. Heap on his first visit to Haworth after his accession
to the vicarage of Bradford. It was on Easter day, either 1816 or 1817.
His predecessor, the venerable John Crosse, known as the