The night, instead of being the time for repose,
was disturbed with screams and dreadful noises, and thus was the whole
house alarmed night after night. Things could not long continue in this
fashion; the farmer and his good dame resolved to leave a place where
they could no longer expect rest or comfort: and George Cheetham was
actually following with his wife and family the last load of furniture,
when they were met by a neighbouring farmer, named John Marshall.
"Well, Georgey, and soa you're leaving th' owd house at last?" said
Marshall.
"Heigh, Johnny, ma lad, I'm in a manner forced to 't, thou sees,"
replied the other; "for that wearyfu' Boggart torments us soa, we can
neither rest neet nor day for't. It seems loike to have a malice again't
young ans,--an' it ommost kills my poor dame here at thoughts on't, and
soa thou sees we're forc'd to flitt like."
He had got thus far in his complaint, when, behold, a shrill voice from
a deep upright churn, the topmost utensil on the cart, called out--"Ay,
ay, neighbour, we're flitting, you see."
"'Od rot thee!" exclaimed George: "if I'd known thou'd been flitting
too I wadn't ha' stirred a peg.
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