Daily Yellowstone journal., 1891-04-21

the humble couples home What the boy
'Boab" first learned TO notice was a wom-
an. tail. deep chested. with shining haxen
hair and laughing blue eyes, a damask
rose bloom on her cheek, laugh that was
music, too, a step like a deer's for liRht-
ness, and an activity that could carry its
possessor twenty miles a day over the
rough northern hills and land her safely
home at night She would have led an
army, like the old queens, OF governed q
kingdom, COllyer thinks Of this mother Of
mis- What she did govern was a housefuI
Of great, growing hungry, outbreaking
basrns-keeping them well in hand, sInit-
ing all hindrance out Of their way, clothing
them and feeding them bravely, and paying
for the schooling as long as they could be
spared to go, out Of the eighteen shillings
a week the quiet, manful father made at
his anvil The old villagers say the kind
est heart that ever beat in a mans breast
was his. 1t stOpped beating in a moment,
one hot July day while the father was
fashiOning the humble fortunes Of his fam
lily at the forge.
But in these brave old days those that
were left were all together in one of the
sweetest cottage homes that stood under
green leaves in green valley There was
plum tree, rose tree, and a wealth Of
ivy and bit of greensward outside; and,
inside, one room below and two above,
with floor of flags, secured 50 white you
could have eaten your dinner of il. and no
harm been done except TO the floor; white
washed walls, with pictures Of Bible scenes
hung where there was room. and in their
own places, kept so bright as 10 be 50 many
dusky mirrors, a great mahogany chest of
drawers, high-cased clock, polished elm
chairs, and corner cupboard for the china
that was only got out at high festivals; a
bright, open, sea coal fire, always alight
with all sorts OF common things for com
mon use. stored snug and bright, ike the
goods and chattels of Ed'ard Cutie, mar
iner. This was Collyer's home in the day
of small things, matched then and now by
thousands of cottages in the sturdy old
shire Of York.
Collyer got all his schooling from an
odd character many Of the IIkley folk still
remember by the name of Willie Hardie.
In those days, by favor, all cripples were
hddlers or teachers Willie Hardie was
both. He was about the worst cripple and !
best fiddler and teacher the Ilkley district |
ever knew. He had a strange squint in his |
eyes, but for all that was a great marks |
man with the ferule. There was no use of |
dodging. II you did, the ferule would find /
you out and thump you ali the harder. /
Collyer and his young companions swore /
solemnly to thrash him when they grew to /
be men, In 1871 Collyer came back here /
from America with a friend Ito thrash /
owd Willie" and they found him at /
Fewston, teaching and humping Just as |
they had left him. Crossing the worn /
threshold, they very sternly inquired;
rs this Willie Hardie'"
"And IL it Isl" he answered cannilv.
"How are you getting along. sirf"
Use wesl enough. but I doan't know
ye"
I'VE used TO be your scholars. sir.
We've come TO give you back your thrash
ingsr'
''Noa, noa-an' ye will notr' shouted
'owd Willie" at the intruders. instinct
lively grasping his ferule
Then they made a rush at him, telling
him who they were, and giving him great
hustling, until be purchased freedom by a
promise to play for them a tune on the old
nddle then and there; and he give them
Sweet Home" until there was not a dry
eye in the little low schOol-house.
At fourteen Collyer was "iprenticed" to
'Owd Jackie" Birch, the Ilkley village
The lad was pretty steady.
About middling-about middlingw be
will himself tell you, with a twinkle Of the
Did Yorkshire light in his eye The old,
Did women Of ukley tell me they were
pretty sure Of the orthodoxy of any little
village fun he had a hand IN. One recalls
certain night long ago when there had
Deen some "doings" which held until
''elock In the morning, at which time she
overheard, from the window Of her cham
Der, a little conversation between the mill
=
mt, something after the manner Of Tam o.
'hanter's good dame. She greeted him
With:
Why, David. mon. thaa be out toe !
ateP' ,
''Noa, noa, woman; Boab Collyer's vet
'ehind meP be retOrted in an injured way
Whatl-BOabi Then thaa be home full
irlylD I
The only industries Of nkley at that time I
Eere wool combing and ludgers." One !,
these wool combers, John Dobsou.
armer's boy named Tom smith. another q
nd named John Hobson, and the 'prentics {
oy, Collyer, became friends and foruec r
compact about books, reading anc
indy. The wave Of Wesleyanism was ,
Illl strong over the northern moors z
local preacher named Bland, now In q
anada, preached sermon one Sab \
ath which took a wondrous hold on
le young blacksmith, though no re Y
iyal" was in progress, and 'at last th, q
ght came" The Methodists took him '
Dn probation" and put him in ''old Jim i.
elves class A few nights after Delve
as absent. and, as Collyer has often told .
e. ''up spoke Tom Smith from across the a
om, 'Naa, lad, thaa nun lead q class
night; thaa can do it II thaa tries.'" So
} took hold and led In a little while
ey made him local preacher. His hrst
rmon was a great event In the district -,
was preached at Addingham, a little
inlet thres miles up the Wharfe from "
kley. r
'Oh, I thought had capital sermon. 10
ouGh" Mr.. Collyer once said to me. sIt q
- In 4hree parts. each. Of course, essen :
Il 10 the other. Half way back q -
Eley suddenly remsmbered I had lef1
secondly out entirely. I was quits a
arwhelmed abont it; but the Joke of IA N
was thar l had boldly stolen nv ssso. =.
dly' from fine sermon preached bv /"
ID Presbyterian brother named Ne M
Inc felt the weight Of that judgment 81
me 80 heavily that I have never etolrr -.