“Aw nivver thowt, Sammywell,” sed Mally, after a bit, “at aw should ivver live to ride i’ mi own carriage an pair.”

“Why, lass, awm pleased if tha’rt suited.  But tha can hardly call it a carriage an pair.”

“Aw dooant see why net.  Its a varry nice little carriage is this an awm sewer th’ galloway an thee mak a gooid pair, for aw should tak yo to be booath abaat th’ same age, an th’ same complection to nowt, except for thi nooas; an yo nawther on yi ivver hurried yorsen mich or seem likely to do; but aw think if aw wor thee awd get aght an shove behind a bit, its a pity to see it tewin up this hill, an its puffin like all that.”

“Well, let it puff!  If ther’s onny shovin to be done tha’ll ha to tak thi share on it.  We’ll stop at yond haase at top o’th hill an then wol we get a bite an a sup, Fanny can rest a bit.”

“Who’s Fanny?”

“That’s th’ galloway’s name.”

“Then it’ll have to be kursend ovver agean.”

“Ha’s that?”

“Dooant thee think ’at aw forget.  It wor Fanny Hebblethwaite at wor allus hankerin after thee until we wor wed, an for some time after.  Aw’ve had enuff o’ Fannys.  We’ll call it Jerrymier.”

“But its a mare tha sees.”

“Well then, we’ll call it Jimmima.”

“Let’s mak it Jenny an ha done wi it.”

“Owt’ll do but Fanny.  Shoo wor a impotent hussy.  Aw wonder what becoom on her?”

“Aa! shoo’s been deead aboon a duzzen year?”

“Oh, well then—­tha can call it Fanny.”

They did enjoy thersen that day an noa mistak, an monny a day after, an they’re lukkin forrad to monny a pleasant little time.

Th’ naybors have getten used to seein em nah an have noa desire to poak fun at em.

Jerrymier has takken a big fancy to th’ galloway, an oft gooas an gethers it a basket full ov sweet clover, an when Grimes an Mally arn’t using it, Hepsabah an her babbies have a drive throo th’ park, Jerrymier acting as th’ cooachman.

Th’ galloway knows its getten a gooid hooam.  It wants for nowt,—­Mally taks gooid care o’ that.  It’s one to be trusted an it knows its way abaat.  Some day yo may see an old galloway, pullin a little carriage containin an old man an woman;—­all three on em saand asleep, an yo can rest assured at that’s Grime’s an Mally an ther Galloway.

True Blue; A Romance of Factory Life.

Susy was only twenty-two, and she had been a widow for over twelve months.  She had married when only nineteen, a honest hard working man who was more than twice her age.  There had been no love in the match, so far as she was concerned;—­she was an orphan,—­poor,—­lonely, and pretty.

She was only a weaver, and not very expert, yet she managed to make sufficient to pay her board and to keep herself well dressed, for the position she occupied, and her beauty,—­for she was very beautiful, and her natural taste enabled her to present an appearance so much superior to those with whom she was in daily contact, that many envied her, and some looked askance at her, and shook their heads, and predicted evil to come.