"Aw've been sweepin th' chimley," sed Sammywell.

"An a bonny job tha's made on it. If tha can find onny sooap an watter
onnywhear, goa and gie thisen a gooid swill an then change thi' clooas,
an leeav me to tackle this mess. Aw dooant blame thee a bit moor nor aw
blame misen, for knowin what a fooil tha art, and what a mullock tha
allus maks ov ivverything tha offers to do, aw owt to ha had moor sense
nor mention sich a thing to thi."

Sammywell thowt th' less he sed an th' better, an he went at once to do
as he wor tell'd. He wor as anxious to get away as shoo wor to be shut
on him, an as he wor gooin aght, Mally sed,--

"Whear are ta gooin an what are ta gooin to do?"

"Awm gooin to a funeral befoor tha sees me agean."

"Aw didn't know onnybody wor deead. Who's funeral will it be?"

"Parker's."




Hepsabah's Hat.


"Some fowk are nivver satisfied! Aw've noa patience wi' sich like! Th'
moor some fowk have an th' moor they want. Ther wor noa sich stinkin
pride when aw wor young; but young folk nah dooant know what ails em.