Transcript of Haworth's
CHAPTER I. TWENTY YEARS. Twenty years ago, yes, twenty years ago this very day, and there were men among them who remembered it. Only two, however, and these were old men whose day was past and who would soon be compelled to give up work. Naturally, upon this occasion these two were the center the group of talkers who were discussing the topic of the hour. I, said old Tipton, I remember it as well as if it were yesterday, for all its twenty years in. Eh, but it were cold. To cold as neat it to winter, and to winter were a badon. To snow were two foot deep. There were a big rush of work, and we'd had to keep the fires going out mid -neat. There were a chap working then by the name of Bob Lethem, he's dead long sin, and he went to the foundry door to look out. You know how some chaps is about seeing how cold it is, or how hot, or how heavy the rain's coming down. Well, he were one of them sort, and he mungo and tak a look out at the snow. Come in to foo, says I to him, what in the stick in the thick yead out there for, as if it were mid -summer, instead of being cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass jackass. Come in with a. I, he says, a chatter in his teeth, it is cold surely, it's not stiffen a mon. I wish it did stiffen thee, I says, so as we moat set thee up as a monument at the front of asylum. And then all at once I hear them gay a jump and a bit o' a yell, like under his breath. God almighty, he says, summat the way he said it sort o' wacken me. What's up, I says, come here, says he, there's a dead lad here. And when I get in to him, sure and no, I thought he were reet, drawed up in a heap nigh the door, there were a lad lying on the snow, and to stiff look on him, moat ha gain only mon a turn. Latham were bending o 'er him with his teeth chattering. Blast thee, I says, why dost nother lift him? Betwixt us we did lift him, and carry him into the works, and laid him down nigh one o' the furnaces, and to fell his cum crowden round to look at him. He were a lad about nine year old, and strong built, but he looked more half clem'd, and artowees rubbed him a good bit, and getting him warm to know to cum round the manner, to way he set up and stared round were summat queer. Mesters, he says, horse and shakie, ha only a ye'll get in a bit o' bread. Bob Latham's missus had put him up summat to eat, and he brought it and gave it to him.