It was Mr.Wigglesworth on his way home from the mill.

"Why, bless my living lights, if it bean't Samuel.
Who's been a beatin' of you, Sammy ?" His eye swept the crowd.

"'Ave you been at my lad ?" he asked, stepping toward the young man, whom Annette named Mack.
"Aw, steady up, man.

There's naethin' much wrang wi' the lad--a wee scratch on the heid frae fa'in' against the fence yonder." "Who 'it 'im, I say ?" shouted Mr.Wigglesworth.

"Was it you ?" he added, squaring up to the young man.
"No, it wasn't, Mr.Wigglesworth.It was me." Mr.Wigglesworth turned on Annette who, now that Sam's bellowing had much abated with the appearance of his father upon the scene, had somewhat regained her nerve.
"You ?" gasped Mr.Wigglesworth.