Mary stole a look at Jacob, and he heaved
a tremendous sigh, something between a yawn and a groan. "Meary,"
he said, "I must go."
"I knew that afore," returned the girl.
"I had zummat to zay to you, Meary. Do you think you will miss oie?"
(looking very affectionately, and twitching nearer.)
"What put that into your head, Jacob?" This was said very demurely.
"Oie thowt, may be, Meary, that your feelings might be zummat loike
my own. I feel zore about the heart, Meary, and it's all com' of
parting with you. Don't you feel queerish, too?"
"Can't say that I do, Jacob. I shall soon see you again."
(pulling violently at her apron-string.)
"Meary, oi'm afear'd you don't feel like oie."
"P'r'aps not - women can't feel like men. I'm sorry that you are
going, Jacob, for you have been very kind and obliging, and I wish
you well."
"Meary," cried Jacob, growing desperate at her coyness, and getting
quite close up to her, "will you marry oie? Say yeez or noa?"
This was coming close to the point. Mary drew farther from him, and
turned her head away.
"Meary," said Jacob, seizing upon the hand that held the
apron-string. "Do you think you can better yoursel'? If not - why,
oie'm your man. Now, do just turn about your head and answer oie."
The girl turned round, and gave him a quick, shy glance, then burst
out into a simpering laugh.
"Meary, will you take oie?" (jogging her elbow.)
"I will," cried the girl, jumping up from the log, and running into
the house.
"Well, that bargain's made," said the lover, rubbing his hands;
"and now oie'll go and bid measter and missus good-buoy."
The poor fellow's eyes were full of tears, for the children, who
loved him very much, clung, crying, about his knees. "God bless
yees all," sobbed the kind-hearted creature. "Doan't forget Jacob,
for he'll neaver forget you. Good-buoy!"
Then turning to Mary, he threw his arms round her neck, and bestowed
upon her fair cheek the most audible kiss I ever heard.
"And doan't you forget me, Meary. In two years oie will be back to
marry you; and may be oie may come back a rich man."
Mary, who was an exceedingly pretty girl, shed some tears at the
parting; but in a few days she was as gay as ever, and listening
with great attention to the praises bestowed upon her beauty by an
old bachelor, who was her senior by five-and-twenty years. But then
he had a good farm, a saddle mare, and plenty of stock, and was
reputed to have saved money.
