But I do loike a bit o' good speakin, 'at I do.

If fine worrds wor penny loaves, that yoong gen'leman ud get a livin aisy! An as for th' owd pew, I cud go skrikin about th' streets mysel, if it ud do a ha'porth o' good.' David's brow cleared, and, by the time they had gone a hundred yards further, instead of fighting the good man, he asked a favour of him.
'D'yo think as theer's onybody in Haworth as would lend me a seet o' yan o' Miss Bronte's tales for an hour ?' he said, reddening furiously, as they stopped at the sexton's gate.
'Why to be sure, mon,' said the sexton cheerily, pleased with the little opening for intelligent patronage.

'Coom your ways in, and we'll see if we can't oblige yo.

I've got a tidy lot o' books in my parlour, an I can give yo "Shirley," I know.' David went into the stone-built cottage with his guide, and was shown in the little musty front room a bookcase full of books which made his eyes gleam with desire.

The half-curbed joy and eagerness he showed so touched the sexton that, after inquiring as to the lad's belongings, and remembering that in his time he had enjoyed many a pipe and 'glass o' yell' with 'owd Reuben Grieve' at the 'Brown Bess,' the worthy man actually lent him indefinitely three precious volumes--'Shirley,' 'Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography,' and 'Nicholas Nickleby.' David ran off hugging them, and thenceforward he bore patiently enough with the days of driving and tramping which remained, for the sake of the long evenings when in some lonely corner of moor and wood he lay full length on the grass revelling in one or other of his new possessions.