STRANGE

A BIT O' COORTIN'.

BY B. A. REDFERN.

(TRANGE as it may seem to all those persons who only know Manchester by hearsay, and possibly even to some who live in Manchester and ought to know better, we can still boast that we have within the boundaries of our much maligned city some unspoilt bits of country. Of these there is one on its northern border which, although, or perhaps because, it lies alongside a largely frequented municipal park, has yet many charms for the lover of natural beauty. Here may still be found the woodland path and glade and pool, the dell and the rivulet, "the sheltered cot, the cultivated farm," a decaying Hall of the last century, and a picturesque Grange of this one, and each of these latter with a wide belt of forest trees and shrubbery around it. Lastly. there is a pretty hamlet, or, as we should call it in Lancashire, a "fowt," of some score ivy-clad cottages.

In one of these latter, still known as "Owd Sam's," our local Dr. Johnson, Sam Bamford, lived in his middle age, and it may interest you in this conjunction to know that the respective authors of "Country Pleasures," "Manchester Walks and Wildflowers," and the "Chronicles of Waverlow," have each gained inspiration in this northern pleasaunce.

There is a narrow lane-at this moment thickly strewn with fallen leaves-running alongside the Grange woodlands from which it is separated by a rough oak paling, and topping the grassy bank on the other side there is a hedge of holly, through whose frequent gaps one can look over pleasant pastures upon all that now remains of the historic White Moss.

It was along this lane, on a day in autumn, some few years ago, that Owd Neddy Hooslum came hobbling on his way to Blackley. He was going to enquire whether two letters, respectively addressed by each of the political parties to Edward Wolstenholme, Esq., were intended for him, because, as he said, "It says 'Esk' at th' eend on it, an' th' name itsel doesna look reet someheaw, ther's ower mony letthers in it for Hooslum, but 'Esq's a queer way o' spellin' 'Esk,' ony road."

He

was audibly anathematising his rheumatismSayin' his prayers," the neighbours called it—as he went along, when at a turn of the lane he came in sight of a big young fellow who had just taken off his coat, and was rolling up his shirt sleeves. This youth had short hair, so light in colour as to make him seem bald, and there was a cleanly, wholesome look about him altogether, though at this moment his generally bright and pleasant face was, as Uncle Neddy noted at once, less bright than usual.

"Hello, Ali," Neddy shouted, while still at a distance, "what the hengment's up? Has tha mistaen thisel, an supp'd sum cowd wayter or summat?"

Eli Shaw-locally known as " Ali o' Shay's"-brightened up at the old man's challenge, and entered upon an explanation which was so involved and seemingly nonsensical to "Owd Neddy" that he stumped off while it was still in progress, shouting contemptuously over his should e "Eh Lord! Ali, but tha'rt a poor pluck'd un for a butty;

goo an' get it ower, tha yung foo. Hoo's in bi hersel, an hoo's ony a little un. By Jumbo, it's come to summat when bits o' wenches turns nowt ower a hauve gallon or two. Goo an' have it eawt, mon." And then he muttered to himself, "Eh! what dal foos these lads is. Aw wish aw wur yung agen, aw'd shew 'em.”

Eli stood looking after him until the old man turned out of the lane, and then with a sigh he took his "cheadle swinger" coat from the oak pale on which he had hung it.

"Ay, ay, Uncle Neddy!" he said. "It's aisy to say 'Have it eawt,' but aw'm th' badger mysel in this draw; hoo'll have me eawt," and then thrusting his arms into the "cheadle swinger" he walked on slowly and warily towards a cottage whose white gable could be seen a little further up the lane.

Aw mun let Nancy do aw th' talkin," he said to himself," an' then aw con float in gently when hoo's run deawn a bit. If aw say owt to begin wi, hoo'll massacree me. Well, here goos, 'Victhory or th' Harpurhey Simmetery,' Whooa's afeerd?" and just then he reached the cottage, and the last bit of his courage left his finger ends.

Suddenly taking heart, however, he knocked gently at the door, and then waited for a call to come in. But none came the fact was that he had been seen as he passed the window-and so after spending an anxious minute or so in the latticed porch, he, with a great effort, lifted the Latch, and found himself in the immediate presence of the enemy.

Nothing very formidable, seemingly; only a plump, comely, black-eyed lass of twenty, seated knitting by an open window, through which came the mingled scents of honeysuckle and sweetbriar. Eli took one swift look at Nancy Wolstenholme's compressed lips and half-closed eyelids, and the sight made him feel that he wanted a seat,

so he sat down without invitation. Then, following out his programme, he silently awaited events. But there were none, and for a few minutes the silence was only broken by the ticking of the ancient clock, the click-not wholly regular-of the knitting needles, and an occasional imbecile sniff from Eli.

Gradually, but surely, it was borne in upon him that the campaign was not likely to be carried out on the lines. he had laid down. Aw mun do as they dun wi th' owd pump, pour some wayter deawn afore we con geet it gooin," he thought. There'll be a flood directly, aw deawt. Well, here's to begin. Hoo conno jump deawn my throat if aw do oppen mi meawth, an aw dunnot care if hoo does. Nancy, dost yer, lass," he began aloud, "what's to do wi thee? Dunnot be afeerd o' spakin to me if awve dun owt rung."

She merely tightened her lips, turned her rocking chair from him, and went on knitting. But just then Eli saw to his great delight that a business-like bee was circling in the air just above her head.

"Sit still, wench," he shouted, "ther's a hummabee on thee," and he rose as if for her protection. Nancy gave a

little cry as she got up also, but the bee darted off through the lattice, and she sat down again, looking daggers, but speaking none. Then Eli, with an air of grave anxiety"It's noan stung thee, has it? Seeams like ther's a swellin on thi nose theer," and he approached her as if to point it out. But Nancy snapped out such a sudden "Thee gullook!" at him that he fell back feebly into his chair near the door.

Still, on due consideration, Eli felt, as the result of this round, that he was getting on a bit, for she had been compelled to speak. And as Nancy nervously rocked herself awhile, another mode of drawing the enemy's fire

suggested itself, and he said-"Gullook, says to? Well, aw have bin lookin, an aw con see for one thing as th'are beawn to be lucky, cose tha weears thi shoes i'th middle o'th foout, an aw con see when tha rocks thi sel at tha has them nice blue stockins"

He never finished that sentence, for Nancy rushed at him, and gave him such a smart ringing smack on the side of his head that, partly from the force of the blow, and partly from his attempt to avoid it, he fell into the corner behind the door, and there he stopped. After considering the situation calmly for a while in that undignified position, be began again in his most insinuating manner— "Neaw, Nancy, tha knows what th' Owd Book says abeawt givin summat back for a blow, dostna?"

"Naw, aw dunnot," said she, "and if tha tries to kiss me, aw'll may thee tha'll kiss nowt else for a wick."

"Well, well, whoaa's tryin to kiss thee? Noan o' me," said Eli. But aw tell thee what, if this war's gooin on,

tha mun come an' help me eawt o' this corner.

Tha con

not hit me while awm deawn; its agen o'th rules. Besides. awm gettin mi deeoth wi this draught und her th' dur heer."

"Well, then, sup it," she said, "like them t'other draughts tha're so fond on.'

"Oh, ay, so we're theer at last, are we?" said Ei to himself; and then he said aloud--" Well, neaw, Nancy lass, just yer me for a minnit; theau con pleeos thisei whether tha listens or not, but just yer this. As sure as dips is taller, an' yoìks yaller-an' tha knows aw wouldn't say that if aw wur lyin-well aw am lyin, lyin i' this corner, aw know, but wheer wur aw-oh! aw wur sayin that awd nobbur sixpence on me when aw left whoam o' Monday, and tha knows-nobry better-that's ony good for three pints. Well, well, aw reet, then, we'll say tha