"But could anything really have saved it?" I inquired. "He told me it was something internal which could not be accounted for."
"Ah, miss," she replied, "there's a kind of illness 'at you can't get any doctor to cure, but Greenwood's illness could be accounted for when you know all. It's true enough 'at there wasn't a stronger nor likelier man i' t' West Ridin' than my 'usband, nor a steadier. And he never ailed owt, never. Day in an' day out he did his work wi' t' best on 'em, an' took all his meals hearty. But he lived wi' a great big wound in his inside this last ten year for all that, an' they can say what they like, but I know if he hadn't had that sore in his soul he'd never have had that bad place in his body.
"You can't go by appearances, miss. My husband was right enough in his body, but he was sick at heart. It's not easy tellin', but I can tell you, though I'm sure I don't know why. We never had but two children, Jane an' her brother Joseph. My husband was called after his mother--her name was Greenwood afore she was married--so we called our lad Joseph after his grandfather. He came within a year of our gettin' wed, and a brighter little lad never breathed. Eh! he was that bonny an' sweet ...
"How is it, miss, 'at some grows up so crook'd an' others i' t' same family never gives you a minute's trouble? Our Jane has been a comfort to us both all her life, but Joe has broke our rest many a hundred nights. He was same as he took t' wrong road from bein' a little lad o' twelve. He would go his own road, an' it was allus t' wrong road. He'd work if it pleased him, an' he wouldn't if it didn't, an' you could neither coax him nor thrash him into it. His father tried both ways, an' I'm sure I did all I could. An' the way he sauced his father you wouldn't believe for a young lad.
"He had his good points, too, for he wouldn't lie to save his own skin or anybody else's, an' he was as honest as they make 'em. But he was self-willed and 'eadstrong past all tellin'. He used to laugh about the devil, an' say it was all bosh an' old wives' tales, but if ever a man was possessed wi' one our Joseph was when he were nineteen.
"There isn't a church for four mile; no, but there are two drink shops easy enough to get at. Oh, miss, why do they let the devil set traps to catch the souls o' men? They can't keep him out of us, God knows, but they've no need to build places for him to live in, and license him to do his devil's work. O Lord, why didn't You save our Joe?