"Mornin', Old Zeb; how be 'ee, this dellicate day?"

"Brave, thankee, Uncle."

"An' how's Coden Rachel?"

"She's charmin', thankee."

"Comely weather, comely weather; the gulls be comin' back down the
coombe, I see."

"I be jealous about its lastin'; for 'tis over-rathe for the time o'
year. Terrible topsy-turvy the seasons begin to run, in my old age.
Here's May in Janewarry; an' 'gainst May, comes th' east wind breakin'
the ships o' Tarshish."

"Now, what an instructive chap you be to convarse with, I do declare!
Darned if I didn' stand here two minnits, gazin' up at the seat o' your
small-clothes, tryin' to think 'pon what I wanted to say; for I'd a
notion that I wanted to speak, cruel bad, but cudn' lay hand on't.
So at last I takes heart an' says 'Mornin', I says, beginnin' i' that
very common way an' hopin' 'twould come. An' round you whips wi'
'ships o' Tarshish' pon your tongue; an' henceforth 'tis all Q's an'
A's, like a cattykism."

"Well, now you say so, I _did_ notice, when I turned round, that you was
lookin' no better than a fool, so to speak. But what's the notion?"

"'Tis a question I've a-been daggin' to ax'ee ever since it woke me up