Just as they oppened th’ door all th’ singers wor standin up to begin.

‘Dooant stand up for th’ sake o’ us,’ sed Dick, ‘get on wi’ yer mewsic, we can caar daan onywhear.’  Iverybody laff’d when Dick sed soa, an’ as they didn’t know what they wor laffin at they thowt it wor at Seth’s britches.

‘Yo’ve noa need to laff,’ sed Seth, ‘aw’ve some better at hooam.’

‘Silence! silence!’ bawled aght a lot o’ fowk; an’ when all wor quiet, th’ chap at th’ far end began shakkin a bit ov a stick ‘at he had, an’ Seth sed, ‘Tha’s noa need to shak thi stick at me,’ but what he sed beside wor lost, for all th’ singers struck up, an’ Dick an’ Seth set daan o’ th’ edge ov a big drum ‘at ther wor in th’ nook.  In a bit Seth axed th’ chap ’at set next to him what they wor singin.

‘It’s Mozart’s Twelfth Mass,’ he sed.

‘Why, what dooant they turn him aght for?’

‘Turn who aght?’ sed th’ chap lukkin raand.

’Why, Mose Hart.  If he worked at awr shop he’d be secked for one mess, niver tawk abaat twelve.’

‘Whisht!’ sed th’ chap, an’ gave Seth a drive wi’ his elbow just between his brace buttons, an’ Seth went daan wi’ a soss onto th’ drum end, an’ throo it he went wi’ a crack as laad as a pistol gooin off.

‘Thear, tha’s done it,’ sed Dick; ‘Tha’s letten all th’ mewsic aght o’ that, onyway; they owt to ha made a drum major o’ thee.’

‘It’s noa fawt o’ mine,’ he sed, as he tried to scramel aght.  ’Let me catch hold o’ that chap’ at knocked th’ wind aght o’ me, an’ if aw dooant drum him it’ll be becoss aw connot.’

When he gate to his feet he luk’d raand, but th’ chap had mizel’d, but all th’ singers wor standin raand laffin fit to split.

‘Are yo laffin becoss mi britches knees is brussen or becose th’ drum end’s brussen, aw’d like to know?’

‘What’s th’ matter wi’ thi? tha’rt as mad as if tha’d swoller’d th’ drum asteead o’th’ drum swollerin thee; tha mud ha getten thi bally brussen,’ sed Dick.

’It’s very plain to me that there will be no more harmony here this ev’ning,’ sed th’ little man ‘at wor shakkin th’ stick, ’and so I shall leave you, an’ I hope those who have tickets to dispose of, will in future give them to persons who can appreciate music.’

‘Aw’ll mak thee sick for two pins,’ sed Seth, ’if tha says owt agean me, aw’ll sing thee for glasses raand ony day.’

The conductor sed no more but went home.

‘Who is yond leckterin fooil?’ sed Seth, to a chap ’at stood near.

‘That’s th’ conductor.’

’Corn doctor, is he?  Why, what does he want at a singing doo?  Connot yo cut yor own corns?’

‘Tha doesn’t understand, he’s th’ leeader.’

‘Well, if he’s th’ leeader, what dooant yo follow him for?  But nah luk here! aw’ll tell yo what aw’ll do.  Aw’ve been th’ cause o’ braikin up yor spree, soa suppoas yo all stop an’ have a bit ov a doo wi’ me; aw’ve getten a shillin or two an’ we’ll send for some ale an’ mak a reglar free-an-easy on it.’