“A lift!  What does ta mean?  What is it tha wants liftin?  Aw dar say aw con do mi share, for aw’ve seen th’ time when ther worn’t a chap i’ Awrram ’at could lift as mich as me.”

Why, Tom! aw’m capt tha hasn’t heeard!  Doesn’t ta knaw ’at we’re goin to have a grand tea-drinkin up stairs to neet, an’ a grand ball ta finish off wi’?”

“Noa, ther’s niver noabdy tells me owt,” says Tom.

“Well, aw thowt tha knew all abaght it—­its to be a furst rate doo; tickets to be a shillin a piece, an’ them ‘at taks two con have’ em for one an’ ninepence; an’ we’re gooin to have a peanner, for tha knaws noa beershop’s thowt respectable nah, unless ther’s a peanner i’ th’ chamer an’ an ale pump i’th’ bar, soa as aw dooan’t want to be behund other fowk, aw’ve borrowed one ov a musichener ‘at keeps a shop, an’ a grand un it is as iver tha clapt thi een on.”

“What is it made on?” says Tom.

“Aw dooan’t knaw reightly, but aw think its awther mogny or wallmuck—­aw forget whether; but there it is.  Luk!  Sithee!” he sed, runnin to th’ winder, “come help us to get it in.”

They booath ran aght to help th’ lads at bad browt it, to get it off th’ spring cart, an’ they varry sooin had it inside.  As sooin as Tom an’ th’ landlord wor left to thersen, they began to try to get it upstairs; but they’d a job; they gat it up a step or two, an’ thear it stuck.

“Nah, then!” sed Tom, for he wor at th’ top side, “nab then, lift! howd on! lift! lift! howd on! lift!  What th’ shames are ta dooin?”

“Aw’m liftin,” sed th’ landlord, “what should aw be dooin, thinks ta?”

“Well, try agean,” says Tom, “nah then, lift! lift!  Oh-h-h!  Howd on! what the hangmit are ta doin?”

“What’s up?” says th’ landlord.

“Can’t ta see, lumpheead! tha’s ommost brokken mi fingers ageean that step!”

“Tha should keep thi fingers aght o’th’ gate, an’ then they willn’t get brokken.”

“If tha doesn’t mind what tha’rt saying, aw ‘ll pitch booath thee an’ it to th’ botham; an’ it will ha’ to goa thear yet, for it’ll niver come up this way.  They must be fooils ‘at mak stuff ta big ta get up th’ steps.  Aw once made a mangel ’at aw could tak up steps hauf this width.”

“Well, its net gooin up, that’s plain enuff, Tom, soa what mun we do nah?”

“We mun get it back, an’ try to pull it in ‘at th’ charner winder, but we shall want a stee.”

“Oh, we can sooin get that,” says th’ landlord, “just thee stop an’ see ‘at noabdy touches it, an’ aw’ll goa borrow one.”

Off he went, an’ wor sooin back wi’ th’ stee; an’ they reared it up agean th’ charner winder an’ teed a roap raand th’ middle o’th’ peanner, an’ wol th’ landlord went up th’ stairs to pool, Tom stopt daan to put it on an’ shove, an’ it began to goa up varry nicely, an’ Tom followed to steady it.  When it had getten abaght hauf way, th’ stee began to bend a gooid bit.  “Steady fair,” says th’ landlord, “tha munnot come ony farther, Tom:  if tha does, it’ll smash!  Aw think awst be able to manage nah.”  Soa Tom went back, an’ th’ landlord kept poolin it up a bit at a time.  As it kept gooin up an’ up, it kept gettin a bit moor to one side.  “Ha is it nah, Tom?”