ct of carrying a pound or so of that unique mud into a civilized
house affrighted me, but Mr Brindley opened his door with his latchkey
and entered the abode as unconcernedly as if some fair repentent had
cleansed his feet with her tresses.

'Don't worry too much about the dirt,' he said. 'You're in Bursley.'

The house seemed much larger inside than out. A gas-jet burnt in the
hall, and sombre portieres gave large mysterious hints of rooms. I
could hear, in the distance, the noise of frizzling over a fire, and of
a child crying. Then a tall, straight, wellmade, energetic woman
appeared like a conjuring trick from behind a portiere.

'How do you do, Mr Loring?' she greeted me, smiling. 'So glad to meet
you.'

'My wife,' Mr Brindley explained gravely.

'Now, I may as well tell you now, Bob,' said she, still smiling at me.
'Bobbie's got a sore throat and it may be mumps; the chimney's been on
fire and we're going to be summoned; and you owe me sixpence.'

'Why do I owe you sixpence?'

'Because Annie's had her baby and it's a girl.'

'That's all right. Supper ready?'

'Supper is waiting for you.'

She laughed. 'Whenever I have anything to tell my husband, I always
tell him at ONCE!' she said. 'No matter who's there.' She pronounced
'once' with a wholehearted enthusiasm for its vowel sound that I have
never heard equalled elsewhere, and also with a very magnified 'w' at
the beginning of it. Often when I hear the word 'once' pronounced in
less downright parts of the world, I remember how they pronounce it in
the Five Towns, and there rises up before me a complete picture of the
district, its atmosphere, its spirit.

Mr Brindley led me to a large bathroom that had a faint odour of warm
linen. In addition to a lot of assorted white babyclothes there were
millions of towels in that bathroom. He turned on a tap and the place
was instantly full of steam from a jet of boiling water.

'Now, then,' he said, 'you can start.'

As he showed no intention of leaving me, I did start. 'Mind you don't
scald yourself,' he warned me, 'that water's HOT.' While I was washing,
he prepared to wash. I suddenly felt as if I had been intimate with him
and his wife for about ten years.

'So this is Bursley!' I murmured, taking my mouth out of a towel.

'Bosley, we call it,' he said. 'Do you know the limerick--"There was a
young woman of Bosley"?'

'No.'

He intoned the local limerick. It was excellently good; not meet for a
mixe