Part 3 (1/2)

A real prince might be happy if he could only get in. Some of them have taken years to bring to such a state of perfection; now, a little addition is made here, and then a slight alteration there, until it is finished, and the happy pair set off to take possession of the fairy palace. But they never enter it: the more eager they are to get in, the more confused they become as to the position of the doorway; one thinks it is at the front, the other fancies it must be at the side, and every time they go around the house seeking the entrance, by some mysterious means the house seems further from them, and another effort is necessary to reach it. How tiresome! but they must be in, for storms begin to gather, and they are not prepared for them; the wind blows and whistles as if calling up other evil forces for mischief; night, like a dismal monster in a black cloak, and barefooted, is coming on; the pretty castle is fading out of view among the darkening objects around,--quick! quick! we must be in, for the hour is wild. On they hurry, and in their haste, they find an open door and enter; there is shelter and rest for them, but when daylight comes they open their eyes, and lo, the lovely castle is gone, and the home is a weaver's cottage!

There is no doubt that Abe and his young wife played their part at castle-building, like most others in their position, and like others they found it a great deal easier to erect than inhabit. However, there is this to be said for them, which cannot be said for all, they had fort.i.tude to endure their lot without complaint; and though their castle was but a very little cot, it was commodious enough to hold them, and left room for a variety of joys and sorrows as well.

At the time when they were married, Abe was working as a cloth-finisher in a mill near Almondbury common, but not long afterwards, the work at this place failed, and he, with a number of others, was thrown out of employment. This was a sore reverse, for which they were ill-prepared.

If trade had been good in the neighbourhood, he could easily have obtained work under some other master, but alas! the reasons which induced his employer to discharge his men, operated with others in the same way, and consequently left no opening for Abe.

What was to be done? Ah! that was the inquiry which often pa.s.sed between Abe and Sally in their little home. The bread-winner was stopped, then the bread must soon stop, and then would come a dark _period_, that is, a full stop.

In their day of trouble they carried their case to the Lord, and asked His fatherly aid; many a time did they go together to vent their burden of trouble in His ear, and obtain strength to endure their trial. One day, after Abe had been in this way asking help and counsel of the Lord, he came and sat in a chair at one end of the table, while his wife sat near him, quietly st.i.tching away at an old garment she was mending. For a few minutes neither of them spoke; by-and-by Sally looked up from her work to thread her needle, and their eyes met. She had a very sad look upon her face, for her heart was full of trouble, and she was just ready for what she called ”a good cry;” but the moment she saw his face, which was covered all over with a comical smile, she caught the infection, and burst into a laugh,--a kind of hysterical laugh that had more sorrow than mirth in it. She laughed and he laughed, one at the other, till tears came from the eyes of both, and their poor sorrow-sick hearts seemed as if they would rise into their throats and choke them.

”Naa, la.s.s, what's matter with the'?” at length exclaimed Abe.

”Why, it's thee made me laugh soa.”

”Me, what did I do?”

”Ay, thaa may weel ask,” said Sally, wiping her eyes with her ap.r.o.n.

”Why, thaa looked a'most queer enough to mak' a besom-shank laugh; thaa's made my soides ache.”

”Well, it 'll do thee gooid; thaa wants a bit of a change, for thaa's had heartache lang enough,” responded her husband.

Sally resumed her work, but said nothing; her only response was a deep-drawn sigh. A few moments of silence again ensued, which Abe broke by saying, ”Sally, haa would the' loike to see me wi' a black face?”

”What's 'ta say?”

”Haa w'd th' loike to see me wi' a black face?” repeated Abe.

”What art ta going to blacken thee face forr doesn't th' like thee own colour? what does ta mean?” inquired Sally looking at him.

”I mean,” replied Abe with great earnestness, ”that I'm gooin to turn collier.”

”Nay, niver, lad!” cried his wife in dismay.

”Why, it's only for a bit till things brighten up in aar loine, and then thaa knows I can get wark at th' mill agean.”

Poor Sally wept in earnest now; it was a shock to her feelings that she was not prepared for. At length she said, ”I niver thought of thee goin daan a coil-pit, thaa isn't used to it, and thaa 'll happen break thee neck.”

”Nay, not soa; I've warked mony a day in a coil-pit,” said Abe. ”Bless thee, my la.s.s, when I were nowt but a bairn I used to wark i' th' pits; niver fear, I'm an owd hand, I can do a bit o' hewing wi' ony on um.”

And then when Abe saw the first burst of feeling on his wife's part was giving way, he went on to make good his position: ”Thaa knows I mun do some'at, and there is nowt else I can see to turn to, and it 'll keep us going till I can get back to my own wark; we mu'nt be praad in these times, thaa knows. I'll promise to wesh th' black dust off my face every day,” said he, laughing, and trying to get her to do the same.

”Cheer up, my la.s.s, we mun look th' rock i' th' face.”

”Ah, th' Lord help us,” responded Sally.

”Naa I like to year thee say that,” said Abe, ”because I believe it was the Lord that put it into my yead, for I niver thowt abaat such a thing till I were telling Him my troubles just naa, and then it came to me all in a moment, like as if someone spake to me, and I says, I'll goa.”

And he did go, and he got employment in one of the coal-pits in the neighbourhood, where he received so much per week as wages, and a lump of coal every day as large as he could carry home, as a perquisite. Of course he took as big a lump as he could manage, and sometimes he was tempted to overtax his strength. Many a time poor Abe had to stop on the way home, lift the coal down from his head, where he usually carried it, and rub the sore place; and many an expedient, in the way of padding, had he to resort to, in order to compensate for the soft place which nature, so prodigal in her gifts to some, had denied him.