"Jack Dollop, a 'hore's-bird of a fellow we had here as milker at one
time, sir, courted a young woman over at Mellstock, and deceived her
as he had deceived many afore. But he had another sort o' woman to
reckon wi' this time, and it was not the girl herself. One Holy
Thursday of all days in the almanack, we was here as we mid be now,
only there was no churning in hand, when we zid the girl's mother
coming up to the door, wi' a great brass-mounted umbrella in her
hand that would ha' felled an ox, and saying 'Do Jack Dollop work
here?--because I want him! I have a big bone to pick with he, I
can assure 'n!' And some way behind her mother walked Jack's young
woman, crying bitterly into her handkercher. 'O Lard, here's a
time!' said Jack, looking out o' winder at 'em. 'She'll murder me!
Where shall I get--where shall I--? Don't tell her where I be!'
And with that he scrambled into the churn through the trap-door, and
shut himself inside, just as the young woman's mother busted into
the milk-house. 'The villain--where is he?' says she. 'I'll claw
his face for'n, let me only catch him!' Well, she hunted about
everywhere, ballyragging Jack by side and by seam, Jack lying
a'most stifled inside the churn, and the poor maid--or young woman
rather--standing at the door crying her eyes out. I shall never
forget it, never! 'Twould have melted a marble stone! But she
couldn't find him nowhere at all."
The dairyman paused, and one or two words of comment came from the
listeners. Dairyman Crick's stories often seemed to be ended when they were not
really so, and strangers were betrayed into premature interjections
of finality; though old friends knew better.
The narrator went on-
"Well, how the old woman should have had the wit to guess it I could
never tell, but she found out that he was inside that there churn.
Without saying a word she took hold of the winch (it was turned by
handpower then), and round she swung him, and Jack began to flop
about inside. 'O Lard! stop the churn! let me out!' says he, popping
out his head. 'I shall be churned into a pummy!' (He was a cowardly
chap in his heart, as such men mostly be). 'Not till ye make amends
for ravaging her virgin innocence!' says the old woman. 'Stop the
churn you old witch!' screams he. 'You call me old witch, do ye, you
deceiver!' says she, 'when ye ought to ha' been calling me mother-law
these last five months!' And on went the churn, and Jack's bones
rattled round again. Well, none of us ventured to interfere; and at
last 'a promised to make it right wi' her. 'Yes--I'll be as good as
my word!' he said. And so it ended that day."