The Squire of Sandal-Side by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr


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Page 41

"Agnes Bulteel!" cried Charlotte. "O Sophia! where are her last letters?
I am sure father would like to hear about Joe and the jolly-jist."

"Joe Bulteel is no fool," said the squire warmly. "It is the way around
here to laugh a bit at Joe; but Joe aims to do right, and he is a very
spirity lad. What are you and Sophia laughing at? Eh? What?"

"Get the letters, Sophia. Julius and Harry will enjoy them I know. Harry
must remember Joe Bulteel."

"Certainly. Joe has carried my line and creel many a day. Trout couldn't
fool Joe. He was the one to find plovers' eggs, and to spot a blaeberry
patch. Joe has some senses ordinary people do not have, I think. I
should like to hear about Joe and the _what_?"

"The jolly-jist,--Professor Sedgwick really. Joe has been on the fells
with the professor."

So they drew around the fire, and Sophia went for the letters. She was a
good reader, and could give the county peculiarities with all their
quaint variations of mood and temper and accent. She was quite aware
that the reading would exhibit her in an entirely new _r�le_ to Julius,
and she entered upon the task with all the confidence and enthusiasm
which insured the entertainment. And as both Professor Sedgwick and Joe
Bulteel were well known to the squire and Harry, they entered into the
joke also with all their hearts; and one peal of laughter followed
another, as the squire's comments made many a distinct addition to the
unconscious humor of the letters.

At that point of the story where Joe had triumphantly pocketed his last
five shillings, and gone home reflecting on what a "famous job it would
be to sell all the stones on their fell at five shillings a little
bagful," Mrs. Sandal entered. A servant followed with spiced wine and
dainty bits of cake and pastry; and then, after a merry interval of
comment and refreshment, Sophia resumed the narrative.

All this happened at the end of May, Miss Sandal; and one day last
August father went down Lorton way, and it was gayly late when he
got home. As he was sitting on his own side the fire, trying to
loose the buttons of his spats, he said to Joe, "I called at
Ske�l-Hill on my road home." Mother was knitting at her side of the
hearth. She hadn't opened her mouth since father came home; nay,
she hadn't so much as looked at him after the one hard glower that
she gave him at first; but when he said he'd been at Ske�l-Hill,
she gave a grunt, and said, as if she spoke to nobody but herself,
"Ay, a blind body might see that."--"I was speaking to Joe," said
father. "Joe," said he again, "I was at Ske�l-Hill,"--mother gave
another grunt then,--"and they told me that thy old friend the
jolly-jist is back again. I think thou had better step down, and
see if he wants to buy any more broken stones; old Abraham has a
fine heap or two lying aside Kirgat." Joe thought he had done many
a dafter thing than take father at his word, whether he meant it or
not; and so thought, so done, for next morning he took himself off
to Ske�l-Hill.

When he got there, and asked if the jolly-jist was stirring yet,
one servant snorted, and another grunted, till Joe got rather
maddish; but at last one of them skipjacks of fellows, that wear a
little jacket like a lass's bedgown, said he would see. He came
back laughing, and said, "Come this way, Joe." Well, our Joe
followed him till he stopped before a room door; and he gave a
little knock, and then opened it, and says he, "Joe, sir." Joe
wasn't going to stand that; and he said, "'Joe, sir,' he'll ken its
'Joe, sir,' as soon as he sees the face of me. And get out with thy
'Joe, sir,' or I'll make thee laugh at the wrong side of that ugly
face of thine." With that the fellow skipped out of our Joe's way
gayly sharp, and Joe stepped quietly into the room.

There the little old gentleman was sitting at a table
writing,--gray hair, spectacles, white neck-cloth, black
clothes,--just as if he had never either doffed or donned himself
since he went away. But before Joe could put out his hand, or say a
civil word to him, he glinted up at Joe through his spectacles very
fierce like, and grunted out something about wondering how Joe
durst show his face again. Well, that put the cap on all for poor
Joe. He had thought over what father said, and _how_ he said it, on
his road down till he found himself getting rather mad about it;
and the way they all snorted and laughed when he came to Ske�l-Hill
made him madder; and that bedgown fellow, with his "Joe, sir," made
him madder than ever; but when the old jolly-jist--that he thought
would be so fain to see him, if it was only for the sake of their
sprogue on the fells together--when he wondered "how Joe durst show
his face there," it set Joe rantin' mad, and he _did_ make a burst.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 26th Nov 2025, 8:38