“Nay fer sewer!  An’ whativer did he do?”

Well, he set daan and studied a bit, then he sent for a doctor, net becoss he felt poorly, but becoss he wanted to know what to do to get it off.  Soa th’ doctor coom, an’ they say he couldn’t spaik for iver soa long, for laffin at him; an’ he tell’d him he’d be monny a week befoor he gate reight, an’ it wod have to wear off by degrees; but his hair, he sed, wod niver be reight, soa he mud as weel have it shaved off sooin as lat.  Soa he sent for Timmy, th’ barber, an’ had it done, an’ when his wife coom back, thear he wor set, lukkin for all th’ world like a lot o’ old clooas wi’ a ball o’ red seealin wax stuck at th’ top; an’ thear he is i’th’ haase nah, whear he’ll ha to stop wol his hair grows agean.

“Nay fer sewer!  An does he niver goa aat?”

“Niver,—­he did goa to th’ door one day when Hiram’s little lass went to borrow th’ looaf tins, but shoo wor soa freetened, wol shoo ran hooam, an’ her mother says shoo believes shoo’s gooin to have soor een; mun, he’s flaysome to luk at, an’ th’ child has niver been like hersen sin, an’ shoo connot sleep ov a neet for dreamin abaat it.”

“Nay fer sewer!  An what says Musty?”

“Awve niver heeard what he’s sed sin he lost his shop, but Sucksmith says he’s noan gooin to let it rest, for he’ll send ’em some law if it costs him a paand—­An’ Musty says he doesn’t care ha sooin for he wod be sure ov a bit o’ summat to ait if he wor sent daan th’ rails—­but aw think it’ll get made up agean.  But awve left yond child ith’ creddle bi hersen, soa aw mun be off.”  Away shoo went an’ Sally watched her aat o’th seet, an’ then sank into a cheer, roll’d up her arms in her appron, stared into th’ fire, an’ sed, “Nay fer sewer!  Well ov all!—­Nay fer sewer!”

Th’ Battle o’ Tawkin.

“Tha’rt a liar if iver ther wor one!  An’ that’s a hard thing to say, but aw wodn’t hang a cat o’ thi word!  It’s as sure yor Alick ’at’s brokken awr winder, as awm standin here, an’ tha knows it too!”

“Aw say it isn’t awr Alick, for he’s niver been aat ‘oth’ haase this blessed day!  Tha’s awther brokken it thisen or’ else one o’ thi own’s done it,—­an’ they are a lot ‘oth’ warst little imps ‘at iver lived; an’ if aw mud ha’ mi mind on ’em, awd thresh’ em to within an inch o’ ther lives!  But yo can expect nowt noa better when yo know what a bringin up they’ve had.”

“They’ve had a different bringin up to what ony o’ thine’s likely to have, but whativer comes o’ ther bringin up, yo’ll have to pay for that winder, for it isn’t th’ first he’s brokken, an’ if yo dooant, next time I catch him, awl have it aat ov his booans.’

“Let me catch thee ligging a finger o’ one o’ mine, an’ awl mak this fold too little for thee, an’ sharply too; ha can ta fashion!  A gurt strappin woman like thee, to mell ov a child?  Tha owt to be ‘shamed o’ thi face!  But tha has noa shame an’ niver had.”

“Well if tha’s ony its nobbut latly come to thi!  Awve too much shame to come hooam druffen of a neet after th’ neighbors has getten to bed.”