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157

Oh! it’s Maister Hathecliff’s ye’re wanting? Couldn’t ye ha’ said soa, at onst? un’ then, I mud ha’ telled ye, baht all this wark, that that’s just one ye cannut see – he allas keeps it locked, un’ nob’dy iver mells on’t but hisseln.  – Oh, it’s Master Heathcliff’s you want? Couldn’t you have said so at once? and then I must have told you, without all this work, that he is just one you can’t see – he always keeps it locked, and nobody ever middles with it but himself.

158

Weel done, Miss Cathy! weel done, Miss Cathy! Howsiver, t’ maister sall just tum’le o’er them brooken pots; un’ then we’s hear summut; we’s hear how it’s to be. Gooid-for-naught madling! ye desarve pining fro’ this to Churstmas, flinging t’ precious gifts o’God under fooit i’ yer flaysome rages! But I’m mista’en if ye shew yer sperrit lang. Will Hathecliff bide sich bonny ways, think ye? I nobbut wish he may catch ye i’ that plisky. I nobbut wish he may.  – Well done, Miss Cathy! well done, Miss Cathy! Howsoever, the master will just tumble over them broken pots; and then we’ll hear something; we’ll hear how it’s to be. Good-for-nothing madling! you deserve starving from now to Christmas for flinging the precious gifts of God underfoot with your frightening rages! But I’ll be mistaken if you show your spirit long. Will Heathcliff bide (have, tolerate) such nice ways, you think? I just wish he may catch you in that temper. I just wish he may.

159

kirk-yard  – kirk = church

160

I’d rayther he’d goan hisseln for t’ doctor! I sud ha’ taen tent o’ t’ maister better nor him – and he warn’t deead when I left, naught o’ t’ soart!  – I’d rather he’d gone himself for the doctor! I would have taken care of the master better than him – and he wasn’t dead when I left, not of the sort!

161

He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twenty other queer places.  – The fairy cave under Penistone Crag is an outcrop cliff about three miles west of Haworth. It has a natural passage through the base, and local folklore has it that couples who crawl through this together will die if they do not marry within a year, or that they will commit suicide and haunt the rock forever if they marry someone else.

162

Noa! Noa! that means naught. Hathecliff maks noa ’count o’ t’ mother, nor ye norther; but he’ll heu’ his lad; und I mun tak’ him – soa now ye knaw!  – No! No! that means nothing. Heathcliff makes no account of the mother, nor you neither; but he’ll have his lad and I must take him – so now you know!

163

Cannot ate it? But Maister Hareton nivir ate naught else, when he wer a little ’un; and what wer gooid enough for him’s gooid enough for ye, I’s rayther think!  – Cannot eat it? But Master Hareton never ate anything else when he was a little one; and what was good enough for him is good enough for you, I rather think.

164

Wah! yon dainty chap says he cannut ate ’em. But I guess it’s raight! His mother wer just soa – we wer a’most too mucky to sow t’ corn for makking her breead.  – What! that dainty chap says he cannot eat them. But I guess it’s right! His mother was just so – we were almost too mucky (dirty) to sow the corn for making her bread.