The morning call., 1891-04-19

they found him at Fewston teaching and
Humping just as they had left him. Cross
ing the worn threshold they very sternly in
quired:
us this Willie Hardie?D
And II it tsp" he answered cannily.
"How are YOU. getting along, Sir?"
Use Neel enough. but doant know ye:"
We used to be your scholars, sir. We've
come to give you back your thrashings"
"Noa, noa-an' We will notp shouted
'owd Willie at the intruders, instnctively
grasping his Terule.
Then they made rush at him, telling
nm who they were, and giving him great
hustling, until he purchased freedom by
promise prom TO play for them tune on the old
hddie then and there; and he gave them
Sweet Home" until there was not dry
eye in the little, low schoolhouse.
at IA Collyer was "'prentiaed to "owd
Jackie" Birch, the Ilkley village blacksmith.
Inc lad was pretty steady. About mid
you, with twinkle of the old Yorkshire
light in his eyes. The old, old women of
Likely tell me they were pretty cure of the
orthodoxy OF any little village fun he had
hand In. One recalls a certain night long
ago, when there had been some 'doings"
which held until o'clock in the morning.
at which time she overheard, from the
window of her chamber, little conversation
between the miller and his wife, who was
awaiting the truant something after the
manner OF Tam O. Shanter's good dame.
She greeted him with:
Why, David, mon, thaa be out too late!"
Noa, noa, woman, BoaD Collyer's yet
behind me! he ret0rted in an injured way.
What!-Boab? Then thaa be home full
airly!"
But these were days of insatiate book
hunger for the young Yorkshire blacksmith.
The only industries of Ilkley at that time
were wo0l-cembing and ludgers." Wool
c0mblng Is gone; but now, in the summer
time. thousands come here as "ludgers,"
for rest and health-getting at Ilkley' famous
hydropathic institutes and springs. One
of these wool-combers, John Dobsou, a
farmers boy named Tom Smith, another
lad named John HobsOn, and the prentice
boy Collyer, became friends, and formed
compact about books, reading and study.
Morning, noon, night and Sundays, they
took turns"
READING ALOUD,
Exchanging ideas and aspirations, and thus
grew into the possession Of noble, self
reliant manhood. The wave of Wesleyan
ism was still strong over the northern
moors; local preacher named Bland. now
in Canada, preached a sermon one Sabbath
which took wondrous hold on the young
blacksmith, though no revival was in
progress; and lat last the light came"
Ths Methodists took him ION probation"
and put him in ''old Jim Delve's" class. A
few nights after Delye was absent, and, as
Collyer has often told me, up spoke Tom
Smith from across the room: 'Naa, lad, thaa
mum lead tclass might; thaa can do it if
tEaa triesv' So he took hold and led. In
little while they made him local preacher.
His first sermon was a great event in the
district. 1t was preached at Addlngham, a
little hamlet three miles up the Wharfe
from Ilkley.
"Oh, | thought had a capital sermon
thought! Mr.. Coilyer once said to me. lit
three nnrts pnpD of essential
TO the others. They didn't allow fellow
paper III thOss days, either. Their curious
eyes were all wide open; and L thought L
had done splendidly. But half way back to
llkley, suddenly remembered L had left
the secondly out entirely. | was quite
overwhelmed about it. But the joke of it
all was that | had bodily stolen my sec
ondly' from a fine sermon preached by
good Presbyterian brother named McChine.
felt The weight of that Judgment on me so
heavily that / have never stolen sermon
since"
Then they must hear him at Ilkley. All
the boys and girls were there; and the
young blacksmith thought he had made
great impression. While this was glowing
IN his mind on his way to the forge the next
morning, the old village cobbler called out
to him from where he was hammerlng away
underneath his porch:
Il say, lad, come here l ha' summat TO
say to ye. l heard thaa preach last night"
There was broad grin on his face.
did ye, thought" returned the black
smith proudly.
Il did and think thou'lt ne'er max a
preacher as long as thaa lives, Boab!'
He was stunned by this. for the cobbler
was the village oracle The latter saw how
sorely he had hurt HIM, and kindheartedly
added: Nov doan't mistake me, Boab.
Thou wants TO reason too much. Thou mayst
lecture; but thaa can never be preacher!'
When you stand by the ancient church of
All Saints, and look in upon its messy
graves and the Runic crosses, your hands
will grasp the bars of its huge iron gates.
They were forged on "Owd Jackie's" anvil
by this same stout-hearted . Yorkshire
Blacksmith" And somehow as one turns
away from Ilkley, the feeling comes strongly
that there was wrought into these rods ana
bars hero-grt more impressive and i'm
perishable than is revealed in all other mon
uments or tokens left in Whariedale, since
the days when the Romans trod these pleas
ant ways. EDGAR l.. WAKEMAN.
= nm 4ssgIg