But in the case of the Manchester clerks and warehousemen, who came tramping over the grouse moors which Reuben rented for his sheep, and were always being turned back by keepers or himself--and in their case only--did he exercise, once in a while, the commonest privilege of humanity.
'Did yo iver know onybody 'at went up on Easter Eve ?' asked David.
Both children hung on the answer.
Reuben scratched his head.

The tales of Jenny Crum, once well known to him, had sunk deep into the waves of memory of late years, and his slow mind had some difficulty in recovering them.

But at last he said with the sudden brightening of recollection: 'Aye--of _coorse!_--I knew theer wor soom one.

Yo know 'im, Davy, owd 'Lias o' Frimley Moor?
He wor allus a foo'hardy sort o' creetur.

But if he wor short o' wits when he gan up, he wor mich shorter when he cam down.