"Aw insist on yo closin that winder, sir, th' draught annoys me, as
aw've getten a bad cowd."

Haivver th' owd chap wodn't shut it, he kept his heead aght an cought,
an it worn't till he catched seet o' Sydney sharpenin a gurt jack-knife
on his booit, at he wor flayed into cloisin it. Nah it soa happened at
only that varry afternooin, th' owd feller had been readin ith' paper,
abaat a man havin escaped throo a mad haase somwhear or other, an it
struck him at Sydney must be th' varry chap, soa he wor in sich a funk
'at he didn't know whativver to do, but he thowt th' best thing wod be
to keep as still as he could, an not vex Sydney, soa he sat daan as
quiet as owt an sed nowt.

"Are yo fond o' mewsic?" Sydney axt.

"Varry," sed th' owd chap.

Soa Sydney started wavin his jack knife abaat, an bellowin a song aght
o' tune, abaat Buffalo Bill, an huntin buffalos in th' wilds o'
Kensington, an he stuck a verse in abaat scalpin Railway directors. In
th' meeantime th' train wor gooin along at a gooid rattle, for they wor
lat, an th' driver wor makkin up time, soa th' carriage started o'
swingin a bit. Th' owd feller thowt he mud say summat to try an mak
Sydney forget abaat scalpin directors, soa he sed:

"Dooant yo think this trains gooin quickly, sir?"

"Aw wish it wod goa twenty times faster, aw wish it wod goa a thaasand
times faster," sed Sydney, wavin his arms abaat, "aw wish it wod goa