could nobbut see mi way, yo’ bonnie bairn, none sud ha’ yo’ but mysen. These hands received yo’, an’ these hands sud tew for yo’, if aw worked ’em to skin an’ bone. But it canna be, my bonnie pet,”—she apostrophised the unconscious babe—“An’ Moll o’ Stute’s nooan fit to ha’ th’ rearin’ o’ such as thee, quality-born if ivver ther’ wor one.”

“That reminds me,” interposed the schoolmaster, as he drew forth the locket and told its tale.

“Well, aw nivver did,” gasped Mrs. Schofield, eyeing the keepsake and with some difficulty prizing it open with the point of her scissors. “Black hair an’ leet, crossed an’ knotted. Th’ leet coloured ’ll be th’ poor lass’s, silk isn’t in it for fine, an’ th’ black ’ll be th’ father’s, aw’ll be bun’.”

Even Aleck could not refrain from admiration. “It’ll come in handy some day,” he predicted, “aw sudn’t wonder if it fot enough to breech th’ lad, when th’ time comes.”

“Breech th’ lad, in sooth; hear him. Why, yo’ stupid, it ’ud buy twenty o’t best sheep ivver tha seed i’ pen. Our Mary’s nowt to marrow it, wi her mother’s an gret-aunt Keziah’s thrown in.”

“Twenty ship!” repeated Aleck. “Weel, weel, fooils an’ ther brass is soon parted.”

“But we get further off i’stead o’ nearer th’ point,” pursued the farmer. “Yo’n said nowt, Mr. Black; what’s to be done wi’ th’ child?”

“Well, first and foremost we must advertise i’ th’ Leeds Mercury an’ th’ Manchester Courier, for you see we’ve nothing to guide us which way she came. It may well be sorrowing parents, perhaps a conscience-stricken lover, or indeed, perchance, a distracted husband, at this very moment is seeking far and near for the poor wanderer. What tale of wrong those sealed lips could tell we may not even surmise. But the locket and these initials may put us on the right track. Anyway it won’t cost much, and it’s our clear and bounden duty to both the living and the dead.”

“It’s reet weel thowt on, Schoolmaster. See what it is to be educated. Thof aw will say aw hannot much hope. Aw onest lost a cow for three week—yo’ moind on it, Aleck?”

“Three week an’ three days,” muttered the shepherd.

“An’ aw ’vertised an ’vertised but nowt cam’ on it. But Pinder fan her didn’t ta, lad?”

Pinder winked his dexter eye and lazily stirred his tail.

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