“‘He’ll do nowt o’ the sort,’ I answered; ‘and he wi’ a hoast in his thropple like a badly cow.  I sudn’t be surprised if he were dead by Chrissamas.’

“‘We can soon tell if there’s ony truth in what thou says,’ replied Mike.  ’It will be Ash-Riddling Day come next Friday, and then we can find out for wersens if Owd Jerry’s boun’ to dee afore the year’s out.’

“‘What does thou mean?’ I axed.

“’Why, lass, wheer has thou been brought up if thou’s niver heerd tell o’ Ash-Riddling Day?  What a thing it is to wed a foreigner!  If thou’d been bred and born in Wharfedale thou’d have no need to axe about Ash-Riddling Day.’

Well, I set no count on his fleering at fowks that hadn’t been brought up in his dale, for I was wanting to know what he meant.

“‘What thou’s gotten to do,’ he said, ’is to tak the peat-rake afore thou goes to bed and rake the ashes out o’ the fire and spread ’em all ower the hearthstone.  Then thou can go to bed, and next morning, if there’s to be a death in the family in the next twel-month the foot-step o’ the lad or lass that has to dee will be stamped on the ash.’

“When he’d finished his tale I gave out that I reckoned it nobbut blether, but I minded all the same; and that neet, when I were i’ bed, I couldn’t give ower thinking o’ what he’d said, and I made up my mind that I’d set the peat-ash on the hearthstone come Thorsday neet.  Next morning I thought different, but all the same I couldn’t get shut o’ the temptation.  Ay, ‘twere a temptation o’ the deevil, sure enough; he were ticing me to eat o’ the Tree o’ Knowledge, same as he ticed Eve i’ the garden.  So I said:  ‘Get thee behind me, Satan,’ and I kept him behind me all that day.  But when it got dark, and I’d putten the childer to bed, he came forrad, and the ticing got stronger and stronger.  It wasn’t that I wanted Owd Jerry to dee, but I were mad to see if there was ony truth in the tale that Mike had told.

“Well, Tuesday passed, and Wednesday passed, and Thorsday came.  I said no more about the ash-riddling to Mike, and I reckon he’d forgotten all about it.  But that day Owd Jerry were warr nor iver.  He set up his fratching at breakfast acause his porridge was burnt, and kept at it all day.  Nowt that I did for him were reet; if I filled his pipe, he said I’d putten salt in his baccy, and if I went out to feed the cauves, he told me I left the doors oppen, and wanted to give him his death o’ cowd.  Evening came at last, and by nine o’clock I were left alone i’ the kitchen.  Owd Jerry were i’ bed, and the childer too, all except Amos, our eldest barn, and he had set off wi’ his father to look after the lambing yowes, and wouldn’t be back while eleven o’clock.  He was a good lad was Amos, and the only one o’ the family that favvoured me; the rest on ’em took after their father.  So I sat misen down on a stool and glowered into the fire, and wrastled wi’ the deevil same as Jacob wrastled wi’ the angel.  And the whole fire seemed to be full o’ lile deevils that were shooting out their tongues at me; and the sparks were the souls of the damned i’ hell that tried to lowp up the chimley out o’ the deevils’ road.  But the lile deevils would lowp after ’em, and lap ‘em up wi’ their tongues o’ flame and set ’em i’ the fire agean.