Mark my words, will 'ee?"
And he began to sing, dancing round Tom, like a bairn with his yellow
hair, but looking older than ever with his grinning wrinkled bit of a
face:
"Work as thou will
Thou 'lt never do well;
Work as thou mayst
Thou 'lt never gain grist;
For harm and mischance and Yallery Brown
Thou 'st let out thyself from under the stone."
Tom could never rightly mind what he said next. 'T was all cussing and
calling down misfortune on him; but he was so mazed in fright that he
could only stand there shaking all over, and staring down at the horrid
thing; and if he'd gone on long, Tom would have tumbled down in a fit.
But by-and-by, his yaller shining hair rose up in the air, and wrapt
itself round him till he looked for all the world like a great dandelion
puff; and it floated away on the wind over the wall and out o' sight,
with a parting skirl of wicked voice and sneering laugh.
And did it come true, sayst thou? My word! but it did, sure as death! He
worked here and he worked there, and turned his hand to this and to
that, but it always went agee, and 't was all Yallery Brown's doing.
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