th’ muck comes fro’ this warm weather, fit to fry yo’ like a’ rasher o’ bacon; sit yo’ dahn, do, an’ throw yo’r hat off an’ yo’ll read ith Book a bit; not ’at aw held so much religion but Lucy theer likes it an’ it’s cheap, that’s one gooid thing or th’ poor folk ’ud get little enew on it.”

Mrs. Garside, who, it will be observed, did not allow her power of speech to rust for want of use, paused to draw breath for another effort.

“What shall I read, Lucy?”

“Oh! Just that story about Jesus at the pool of Bethesda. How I wish I could have been there.”

Mrs. Garside composed herself to listen, putting on that look of impenetrable stolidity and unreceptiveness that a good many people seem to think most appropriate for a Scripture-reading.

“In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the waters.…‘Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool; but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.’”

“Nah! If that isn’t Holmfirth all ovver, my name’s not Hannah Garsed” broke in that lady. “Holmfirth all ovver. Aw can see just how it wer’. Th’ poor man wer’ ligged theer all bi hissen, an’ nobbudy to help ’im. Then fust one an’ then another comes up an’ thruts ’im o’ one side. An’ if them watters wer’ owt like th’ Booik says, yo may mak’ sure ’at there’d be th’ rich folk theer wi’ their sarvants, an’ lackeys, an’ nusses an’ lady’s maids, to put ’em i’th’ watter an’ they’d ha’ th’ pick o’ ivverything. An’ yar Ben sez ’at if th’ heealin’ o’ th’ man wi a infirmary wer’ a miracle, it’s a bigger miracle ’at someb’dy hadn’t bowt that pool up an’ med a fortin’ out o’ it. Not ’at aw hold wi’ all yar Ben says, for there’s gooid folk amang th’ quality, as we’d no need to look further nor Wilberlee,” she concluded, with a penitent glance at the table.

“But I’ve some news for you, Mrs. Garside,” interrupted Dorothy, “and I hope it will be good news.”

“It’ll be summat fresh if it is,” murmured the irrepressible dame, “weel, out wi’ it.”

“You know uncle has been very busy lately, putting in new machinery?”

Mrs. Garside nodded. That did not concern her, except perhaps that it might mean either more or less country-work to the hand-loom weavers. But that would be to try for.

“And he is going to take another apprentice,” continued Dorothy. “I heard him 

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