. . I may also add that among
the many who were present at those sad Sunday orgies the majority were
non-residents, and came from those moorland fastnesses on the outskirts
of the parish locally designated as 'ovver th' steyres,' one stage more
remote than Haworth from modern civilization.
"To an instance or two more of the rusticity of the inhabitants of the
chapelry of Haworth, I may introduce you.
"A Haworth carrier called at the office of a friend of mine to deliver a
parcel on a cold winter's day, and stood with the door open. 'Robin!
shut the door!' said the recipient. 'Have you no doors in your country?'
'Yoi,' responded Robin, 'we hev, but we nivver steik 'em.' I have
frequently remarked the number of doors open even in winter.
"When well directed, the indomitable and independent energies of the
natives of this part of the country are invaluable; dangerous when
perverted. I shall never forget the fierce actions and utterances of one
suffering from delirium tremens. Whether in its wrath, disdain, or its
dismay, the countenance was infernal. I called once upon a time on a
most respectable yeoman, and I was, in language earnest and homely,
pressed to accept the hospitality of the house. I consented. The word
to me was, 'Nah, Maister, yah mun stop an hev sum te-ah, yah mun, eah,
yah mun.
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