Page 78 - sons-and-lovers

ter?’
‘A lad as gets ‘old of another an’ rips his clothes off’n ‘is
back,’ Mrs. Anthony said, ‘wants showing something.’
‘Your Alfred’s as old as my William,’ said Mrs. Morel.
‘Appen ‘e is, but that doesn’t give him a right to get hold
of the boy’s collar, an’ fair rip it clean off his back.’
‘Well,’ said Mrs. Morel, ‘I don’t thrash my children, and
even if I did, I should want to hear their side of the tale.’
‘They’d happen be a bit better if they did get a good hid-
ing,’ retorted Mrs. Anthony. ‘When it comes ter rippin’ a
lad’s clean collar off’n ‘is back a-purpose—-‘
‘I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose,’ said Mrs. Morel.
‘Make me a liar!’ shouted Mrs. Anthony.
Mrs. Morel moved away and closed her gate. Her hand
trembled as she held her mug of barm.
‘But I s’ll let your mester know,’ Mrs. Anthony cried af-
ter her.
At dinner-time, when William had finished his meal and
wanted to be off again—he was then eleven years old—his
mother said to him:
‘What did you tear Alfred Anthony’s collar for?’
‘When did I tear his collar?’
‘I don’t know when, but his mother says you did.’
‘Why—it was yesterday—an’ it was torn a’ready.’
‘But you tore it more.’
‘Well, I’d got a cobbler as ‘ad licked seventeen—an’ Alfy
Ant’ny ‘e says:
‘Adam an’ Eve an’ pinch-me,
Went down to a river to bade.