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