Fault Finders. (Prose)

A poem by John Hartley

If ther's ony sooart o' fowk aw hate, it's them at's allus lukkin' aght for faults; - hang it up! they get soa used to it, wol they willn't see ony beauties if they are thear. They remind me ov a chap 'at aw knew at wed a woman 'at had a wart at th' end ov her nooas, but it war nobbut a little en, an' shoo wor a varry bonny lass for all that; but when they'd been wed a bit, an' th' newness had getten warn off, he began to fancy at this wart grew bigger ivery day, an' he stared at it, an' studied abaght it, wol when he luk'd at his wife he could see nowt else, an' he kept dinging her up wi' it wol shoo felt varry mich troubled. But one day, as they wor gettin' ther dinner, he said, "Nay, lass, aw niver did see sich a thing as that wart o' thy nooas is growing into; if it gooas on tha'll be like a rhynockoroo or a newnicorn or summat!"

"Well," shoo says, "when tha wed me tha wed th' wart an' all, an' if tha doesn't like it tha con lump it."

"Aw've noa need to lump it," he says, "for it's lumpin' itsen or aw'll gie nowt for it."

Soa they went on, throo little to moor, till they'd a regular fratch, an' as sooin as' he'd getten his dinner, he off to his wark, an' shoo to her mother's. When Jim coom back an' fan th' fire aght, an' noa wife, he felt rayther strange, but he wor detarmined to let her see 'at he could do baat her, soa he gate a bit o' summat to ait an' went to bed. This went on for two-o'-three days, an' he wor as miserable as iver he could be, but o'th' Setterdy he happened to meet her i'th' shambles, an' they booath stopped an' grinned, for they'd nowt agean one another i'th' bothem.

"Nah, lass," he said, "aw think it's abaat time for thee to come hooam."

"Nay, aw'll come nooan," shoo says, "till aw've getten shut o' this wart."

"Oh, ne'er heed that, lass; it doesn't luk hauf as big as it did, an' if tha wor all wart, aw'd rayther have thi nor be as aw am."

"Soa shoo went back wi' him, an' throo that time to this he's allus luk'd for her beauties asteead ov her faults, an they get on swimmingly. One day shoo axed him if he thowt th' wart wor ony bigger?" "A'a lass," he sed, "thi een are soa breet, aw didn't know tha had one!"

- - - - - - - - -

What aw want yo to do is to be charitable, an' if yo find ony faults, think - yo happen may have one or two yorsen. Ther's net monny on us 'at's killed wi sense, but he hasn't th' leeast at's enuff to know he's a fooil.

This world wad be a better spot,
Wi' joys moor thickly strown,
If fowk cared less for others' faults
An tried to mend ther own.

There's plenty o' room for us all to mend, an' them 'at set abaat it sooinest are likely to be perfect furst; at ony rate, if we try it'll show willin'.

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