talkin' abaat my flute, con yo', when it's bin my salvation? And
whenever awm a bit daanhearted, or hardhearted, or fratchy wi' th'
missus, or plaguey wi' fo'k, aw goes to th' owd flute, and it
helps me o'er th' stile. But it's gettin' lat'; let's be goin'
wom'.'

Arriving at the cottage, Enoch told his wife how he had given Mr.
Penrose the history of his old flute, whereupon the good woman
wept and said:

'Him and me, Mr. Penrose, has many a time supped sorrow, but th'
owd flute has awlus sweetened aar cup, hesn't it, Enoch?'

'Yi, lass, it awlus hes.'

That night, before Mr. Penrose left the moorland cottage of the
Ashworths, old Enoch took up the flute tenderly, and, with a
far-off look in his eyes, commenced to play a plaintive air, which
the old woman told Mr. Penrose was to 'their Joe,' who was 'up
aboon wi' Jesus.' And as the minister descended the brow towards
his own home, the sweet, sad music continued to fall in dying
strains upon his ears; and that night, and many a night
afterwards, did he vex his brain to find out why redemption should
be wrought out by a flute, when the creed of Rehoboth was
powerless.