On the Black Hill Page #3

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- Aggie.

- You'll stay and have a cup 0' tea?

- Yes, please.

Come on, you two.

Ay, it's a pity your missed Old Tom.

He's gone with the coffin

for poor Mrs Williams Cringoed.

- Died of her lungs.

- Ah...

And the twins, church folk,

same as Amos and Mary?

Church.

Lord have mercy on them.

Don't take any notice.

Oh, he don't mean no harm, that Jim.

Take that. For your mam.

Right, then, boys.

Let's have a bit of a rest, shall we?

Grandpa's out of puff, see.

Now then...

Can you remember

the names of them hills?

The Whimble, the Bach,

and the Black Mixen.

- And the Smatcher.

- Ay, the Smatcher.

Nearby where I was born.

It was thereabouts that Prince Llewellyn

of Wales fought the English.

Oh, aye. Up out of England, they came

and stole the good land of the valleys.

But the Welshman kept the hills

and stopped them coming any further.

What's that, Grandpa?

It's Welsh for "dirty Saxons".

There you are, boys.

Come up now and see your mother.

She's waiting for you.

Let's give her a little present, is it?

Come on, then. Up you go.

Go on, then, boys.

Come and see your little sister.

Send her away!

Send her away! Send her away!

"The aviator, Captain Diabolo,

harangued the police to clear the course

"and took off a second time.

"Again the machine rose,

higher this time.

"Then it veered to the right, then crash-

landed, not far from the Flower Tent.

"The propeller,

capable of 2,700 revolutions per minute,

"dealt blows to the right and left.

"Several of the spectators were wounded,

"and Mrs Pitt of Hindlip died of her injuries

in Worcester Infirmary.

"Remarkable to state that, about three

quarters of an hour after the disaster,

"a swan flew low across the showground.

"His graceful flight seemed to reduce the

aviator's unfortunate attempts to mockery."

Hey!

Come 'ere, Jim.

Come back, you...

Now, then...

These are your father's.

You drive them back up to the rock

and you tell him to keep his beasts in!

It be a lot of deaths.

- Someone's after the poultry!

- Mm?

I think it's young Jim.

Be careful.

I hope you didn't hurt him too much.

Dirty thieves.

It's from Uncle Eddie,

in Canada.

Mr Watkins' sheep

have broken through again.

Up at the top!

So...he have cut his way through.

That settles it.

Get away from there, Amos Jones.

This land belong to we.

No, indeed. It do belong to the estate.

You get away from by there.

I have a map of the estate

as can prove it.

Get away from there!

Good God.

Surely we can settle this as neighbours.

The land belong to we!

If the land belong to you,

you'd not fear putting it to judgment.

- I'd not fear.

- Then we must meet in Rhulen,

this market day coming,

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