Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 2, 1891.djvu/317

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Legends of the Lincolnshire Cars.
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wull—'d nobbut to do but mischief, fur they'd nowt to see to i' tha fields; so they vvor feared on th' long da'ark winter days 'n noights, i' tha mid' o ahl so'ts o unseen fearsome things, ready 'n waitin' fur a chance to pla'ay un evil tricks. But as tha winter want by they thout as 'twor toime to wake th' yarth fro 'ts sleepin' 'n set the bogles to wo'k, care'n' fur th' growin' things 'n bringin' th' harvest. Efter that th' yarth wor toired, an' wor sinkin' to sleep agean; an' tha useter sing hushieby songs i' tha fields o' th' A'tum evens. But i' th' spring, tha want—tha fo'ak did as b'leeved in th' au'd wa'ays—to every field in to'n, 'n lifted a spud o' yarth fro' th' mools; an' tha said stra'ange 'n quare wo'ds, as tha cudn't sca'arce unnerstan' thersel's; but th' same as' 'd bin said for hunnerds o' ye'ars. An' ivery morn in' at th' first dawn, tha stood o' th' door-sil, wi' salt an' bread i' ther ban's, watchin' 'n waitin' for th' green mist 's rose fro th' fields 'n tould at th' yarth wor awake agean; an' th' life wor comin' to th' trees an' the pla'ants, an' th' seeds wor bustin' wi' th' beginning o' th' spring.

Wa'al ther wor wan fam'bly as 'd done ahl that, year arter year, fro's long as they knowd of, jest 's ther gran'thers 'd done it afore un; an' wan winter e'n, nigh on a hunnerd n' thutty year gone to now, tha wor makin' ready for wakin' the spring. Th' 'ad had a lot o' trooble thruff th' winter, sickness 'n what not 'd bin bad i' th' pla'ace; an' th' darter, a rampin' young maid, wor grow'd whoite 'n wafflin' loike a bag o' bo'ans, stead o' bein' th' purtiest lass i' th' village as a'd bin afore. Day. arter cia'ay a growed whiter 'n sillier, till a cudn't stan upo's feet more 'n a new born babby, an' a cud on'y lay at th' winder watchin' an' watchin' th' winter crep' awa'ay. An' "Oh mother," a'd kep sa'ayin' ower 'n ower agin; "ef a cud o'l'y wake th' spring with 'ee agin, mebbe th' Green Mist 'd mek ma strong 'n well, loike th' trees an' th' flowers an' th' co'n i' th' fields."

An' tha mother 'd comfort her loike, 'n promise 'at she'd coom wi' em agean to th' wakin', an' grow 's strong 'n straight 's iver. But da'ay arter da'ay a got whiter 'n