Abraham was also brought up to farming and manufacturing; but it must be remembered that manufacturing was in those days conducted on a very much smaller scale than it is now.  He afterwards went into partnership with his brother Thomas, to make worsted goods, but after his marriage the partnership was dissolved.  He then became the proprietor of the Scout Farm, and there brought up his family.

Although Abraham Turner was a landed proprietor, he did not think it beneath him to allow his daughter Martha to go out to service.  When about fifteen years old she went as a servant to Miss Oldfield at Warley.  In that service, in her own person, she did the work of kitchenmaid, housemaid, and cook, and in addition to that, she milked four or five cows night and morning.  She remained about ten years with Miss Oldfield.  Her wages were at first fifteen-pence a week; after two years, they were increased to eighteen-pence; and after nine years’ service, they were increased to six guineas a year.  Yet during that time Martha Turner saved thirty pounds by sheer thrift.

John Crossley, the founder of the Crossley firm, and the husband of Martha Turner, was originally a carpet-weaver.  One night, when working at the loom, he was taking his “drinking,” and on laying down his black bottle it fell and broke.  In trying to catch the bottle, he cut his arm so severely that it was thought he would have bled to death.  He could not work at the loom any longer, and he was going about with his arm in a sling, when his employer, Mr. Currer, said to him, “John, do you think you could tie up a loom, as you cannot now weave?” John replied that he thought he could.  He tried, and proved so expert that his master would not allow him to go back to the loom.  John Crossley used to regard the accident to his arm as the turning-point in his life.

In the meantime he was going on with the business of courtship, though it was very much against the wish of the proud farmer—­the father of Martha Turner.  He declared that he would never allow his daughter to marry a weaver, or even a foreman of weavers.  Perhaps the story of their courtship is best told in Martha’s own words.

“When I went to the gate one evening, there was a young man standing there, who asked me if I wanted a sweetheart.  I answered, ’Not I, marry!  I want no sweethearts.’  I then went into the house, and left him.  I saw the same young man frequently about, but did not speak to him for years after.  His name was John Crossley.  When my mistress ascertained his object, she did all she could to set me against him.  She told me that when she was a girl, she had gone to a boarding-school kept by a Mrs. Crossley,—­that her husband’s name was Tom Crossley, the grandfather of this very man that was courting me,—­and that a wilder, idler scapegrace she never knew.  She always said, when she saw him coming, ’There’s young Crossley come again.’