Sylvia's Lovers

'Here,' continued Mrs. Brunton; 'stick a bit o' holly i' yon pig's

mouth, that's the way we do things i' Newcassel; but folks is so

behindhand in Monkshaven. It's a fine thing to live in a large town,

Sylvia; an' if yo're looking out for a husband, I'd advise yo' to

tak' one as lives in a town. I feel as if I were buried alive comin'

back here, such an out-o'-t'-way place after t' Side, wheere there's

many a hundred carts and carriages goes past in a day. I've a great

mind for t' tak yo' two lassies back wi' me, and let yo' see a bit

o' t' world; may-be, I may yet.

Her sister Bessy looked much pleased with this plan, but Sylvia was

rather inclined to take offence at Molly's patronizing ways, and

replied,-'I'm none so fond o' noise and bustle; why, yo'll not be able to

hear yoursels speak wi' all them carts and carriages. I'd rayther

bide at home; let alone that mother can't spare me.' It was, perhaps, a rather ungracious way of answering Molly

Brunton's speech, and so she felt it to be, although her invitation

had been none of the most courteously worded. She irritated Sylvia

still further by repeating her last words,-'"Mother can't spare me;" why, mother 'll have to spare thee

sometime, when t' time for wedding comes.' 'I'm none going to be wed,' said Sylvia; 'and if I were, I'd niver

go far fra' mother.' 'Eh! what a spoilt darling it is. How Brunton will laugh when I tell

him about yo'; Brunton's a rare one for laughin'. It's a great thing

to have got such a merry man for a husband. Why! he has his joke for

every one as comes into t' shop; and he'll ha' something funny to

say to everything this evenin'.' Bessy saw that Sylvia was annoyed, and, with more delicacy than her

sister, she tried to turn the conversation.

'That's a pretty ribbon in thy hair, Sylvia; I'd like to have one o'

t' same pattern. Feyther likes pickled walnuts stuck about t' round

o' beef, Molly.' 'I know what I'm about,' replied Mrs. Brunton, with a toss of her

married head.

Bessy resumed her inquiry.

'Is there any more to be had wheere that come fra', Sylvia?' 'I don't know,' replied Sylvia. 'It come fra' Foster's, and yo' can

ask.' 'What might it cost?' said Betsy, fingering an end of it to test its

quality.

'I can't tell,' said Sylvia, 'it were a present.' 'Niver mak' ado about t' price,' said Molly; 'I'll gi'e thee enough

on 't to tie up thy hair, just like Sylvia's. Only thou hastn't such

wealth o' curls as she has; it'll niver look t' same i' thy straight

locks. And who might it be as give it thee, Sylvia?' asked the

unscrupulous, if good-natured Molly.