Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 2, 1891.djvu/328

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Legends of the Lincolnshire Cars.

skcered o' gruesome things an' 'ud niver goa oot o' noights alo'an by thersels. In th' inn o' evens all th' men-fo'ak 'ud wait, wan upon other, while tha cud all go ho'am togither; an' even then, tha misloiked tha shadows an' tha da'ark corner-pla'aces, an' fingered ther safe-keeps all th' wa'ay ho'am.—What?—Oh, tha wor sort o' spells loike; nigh ivery wan had suthin' to ke'p th' evil things off, an' ma father ha' tould ma on many as a 'd seed. Ay, an' a ha seed un masel', bits o' paper wi' varses oot o' th' Bible, crinkled oop in a nutshell; three straws 'n a clover leaf tied wi a hair off of a dead man; or mebbe the clippins o' a dead wumman's nails, ef a cud get un. That wor a main good safe-keep, a ha' heered sa'ay. But i' ma toime, 'twor mostly Bible-spells or varses writ by a wise woman 'n sich-loike.

Wal, Long Tom wor nigh th' on'y man i' th' pla'ace as 'd niver a safe-keep at all; an' ivery wan said as he 'd rue 't some da'ay, an 's mother wor alius beggin' an' prayin' un to carry wan wi' un as she 'd got fro' au'd Molly, the wise woman as doolt gainhan' to th' mill.

But he on'y laughed, an' niver a safe-keep would a hev. An' o' noights he 'd mock at th' men-fo'ak 'case they wor feared o' th' darklins, an' he 'd mak' oot as he seed things i' tha black corners, so 's to set them skeereder nor iver.

But wan noight at th' inn th' men-bodies to'ned on th' lad, an' said as he wor main ready to get 's fun oot o' them, but fur all that he worn't no'on better nor th' rest of 'um, when 't cum to maddlin' wi' th' bogles, or crossin' th' cars to evens i' tha darklins. An' tha silly lad, as 'd mebbe took more beer 'n he 'd oughter, fired oop, an' swore as a feared nowt, seen or unseen, an' a 'd cross th' cars wi' nobbut a lanthorn o' th' da'arkest noight o' th' year. Theer wor nigh a row at th' inn that noight, but to last they ca'almed thersel's doon a bit, an' 'twor sattlcd as Long Tom 'ud goa by tha pad 'cross tha Car' en', an' round by tha willow-snag on th' verry nex' noight 's iver wor; an' ef a rued it, a mun gi'n oop floutin' at ither