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Heinemann
The luck of Barerakes
The luck of Barerakes
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This is an OCR edition with typos.
Excerpt from book:
CHAPTER II TWO SISTERS Though the story I write lives, and is like to live, in folk's memories, yet the dale itself has not seen over a hundred summers go by without change. Those were the days before the railway, before the penny post, when news travelled slowly, perchance gaining in value as it went. It travelled like seeds that the birds let fall, coming from no-whither, yet springing up into matter for all men's wonderment. It was also a day of scarce money and hard work. Pinched hearths were the lot of many a homestead that winter, coming close as it did on the heels of a wet and sunless summer. And there was hardly a farm in the dale where talk did not greatly centre itself on the coming of McKay the Scot. For if folk were not, by good chance, personally concerned in the affair, they discussed the fate of less fortunate neighbours.McKay had come south in the spring to the big Hogg Fairs,1 and had left sheep on credit. McKay's second coming was like to the Day of Judgment. Geordie Wilson, calling in at Crossriggs to discuss McKay, found Long Tom from Scar End and old Matt Bentham already settled down to the same tune. " Coom thou in, Geordienever stand warming t' door cheek, man ! We'se find room for thee, and thou's nobbut a lyle 'un o' the sunniest day." " Hasta had dealin's wi' yon Scot ?" asked old Matt, putting the newcomer at once on to the track of their communings ; " they tell me he's as far oop-dale as Borse, an' times to be here for t' market to-morn." " Ay ! so they tell me," said Geordie. " I should reckon Scars at the Hollow to be as backward as mostdidn't they get a good few at t' last fair 'bought him out at t' finish, an' thought theirseln lucky not to be puttin' their hands i' their poke afore Back End." " Tes been a dowlie summ...
This is an OCR edition with typos.
Excerpt from book:
CHAPTER II TWO SISTERS Though the story I write lives, and is like to live, in folk's memories, yet the dale itself has not seen over a hundred summers go by without change. Those were the days before the railway, before the penny post, when news travelled slowly, perchance gaining in value as it went. It travelled like seeds that the birds let fall, coming from no-whither, yet springing up into matter for all men's wonderment. It was also a day of scarce money and hard work. Pinched hearths were the lot of many a homestead that winter, coming close as it did on the heels of a wet and sunless summer. And there was hardly a farm in the dale where talk did not greatly centre itself on the coming of McKay the Scot. For if folk were not, by good chance, personally concerned in the affair, they discussed the fate of less fortunate neighbours.McKay had come south in the spring to the big Hogg Fairs,1 and had left sheep on credit. McKay's second coming was like to the Day of Judgment. Geordie Wilson, calling in at Crossriggs to discuss McKay, found Long Tom from Scar End and old Matt Bentham already settled down to the same tune. " Coom thou in, Geordienever stand warming t' door cheek, man ! We'se find room for thee, and thou's nobbut a lyle 'un o' the sunniest day." " Hasta had dealin's wi' yon Scot ?" asked old Matt, putting the newcomer at once on to the track of their communings ; " they tell me he's as far oop-dale as Borse, an' times to be here for t' market to-morn." " Ay ! so they tell me," said Geordie. " I should reckon Scars at the Hollow to be as backward as mostdidn't they get a good few at t' last fair 'bought him out at t' finish, an' thought theirseln lucky not to be puttin' their hands i' their poke afore Back End." " Tes been a dowlie summ...