“So Satan gav out that he were baan for Cohen-eead an’ wouldn’t be back while to-morn.  ‘Twere lat i’ t’ afternooin when he’d getten theer, an’ t’ first thing he did were to creep behind a wall and change hissen intul a sarpint.  An’ as he were set theer, waitin’ for it to get dark, he saw five blue-bottles that were laikin’ at tig i’ t’ sunshine anent t’ wall.  Well, that made t’owd devil fair mad, for they ought to hae bin i’ t’ houses temptin’ fowks to sin; so he oppened his cake-hoil, thrast out his forked tongue, an’ swallowed three on ’em at one gulp.  After that he felt a bit better.  When it were turned ten o’clock, he crawled alang t’ loans an’ bridle-stiles, while he gat to Throp’s farm.  He sidled under t’ door and into t’ kitchen.  It were as dark as a booit i’ t’ kitchen, an’ he could hear Throp snorin’ i’ bed aboon t’ balks.  So he crawled up t’ stairs, an’ under t’ chamer door, an’ up on to t’ bed.  Eh! but Throp’s wife would hae bin flustered if shoo’d seen a sarpint liggin’ theer on t’ pillow close agean her lug-hoil.  But shoo were fast asleep, wi’ Throp aside her snorin’ like an owd ullet i’ t’ ivy-tree.  So t’ devil started temptin’ her, and what doesta think he said?”

“I suppose he told her not to work so hard,” I replied, “but take life more easily and quarrel a bit with her neighbours.”

Tim o’ Frolics paused for a moment to enjoy the luxury of seeing me fall into the pit that he had dug for me, and then went on: 

“He said nowt o’ t’ sort.  That’s what t’ blue-bottles had bin sayin’ to her all t’ time, an’ all for nowt.  Nay, t’owd devil were a sly ‘un, an’ knew more about Throp’s wife nor all t’ blue-bottles i’ t’ world.  So he says to her:  ’Keziah’—­they called her Keziah after her grandmother—­’thou’s t’ idlest dawkin’ i’ Cohen-eead.  When arta baan to get agate o’ workin’?’”

“But surely,” I interrupted, “there was no temptation in telling her to work harder.”

Timothy paused, and then, in a reproving voice, asked:  “Who’s tellin’ t’ tale, I’d like to know?  Thou or me?”

I stood rebuked, and urged him to go on with his story, promising that I would not break in on the narrative again.

“Well, as I were sayin’,” he continued, “t’ devil kept tellin’ her that shoo mun be reight thrang, an’ not waste time clashin’ with her neighbours; an’ when he thowt he’d said enough he crawled down off t’ bed an out o’ house and away back to wheer he com frae.

“Next mornin’ Throp’s wife wakkened up at t’ usual time an’ crept out o’ bed.  There was nowt wrang wi’ her, and o’ course shoo knew nowt about t’ royal visit that shoo’d bin honoured wi’.  Shoo gat all t’ housewark done, fed t’ hens and t’ cauves, an’ was set down to her wheel afore ten o’clock.  There shoo sat an’ tewed harder nor iver.  It were Setterday, an’ shoo looked at t’ bag o’ wool and said to hersen that shoo’d have it all carded an’ spun an’ sided away afore shoo went to bed that