"Aw dooant want one at's been worn. Noa second hand hats for me."

Th' shopman didn't loise his patience, but tried one after another wol
th' caanter wor piled up wi hats, but nooan on em suited.

"Aw dooant know ha it is," sed Mally, "a big shop like this an cant get
a daycent lukkin hat! Awm sewer there must be one if onnybody'd sense to
find it. Here's one, try this."

Sammywell put it on. "That's the ticket! That luks like summat! Aw knew
aw could find one! Ha does it feel? Is it comfortable?" an shoo twisted
it to one side and then twisted it back agean. "Nah, what do yo want for
that,--an remember,--ready brass?"

"I cannot charge for that, because that's the hat he came in."

"Is that soa, Sammywell?"

"Eah, this is my own hat."

"Why, then, its what aw've tell'd thi monny a time,--its thee at doesn't
know ha to put it on. Th' hat ails nowt if ther wor some sense i'th
heead. Tha couldn't have a better. Its a blessin aw coomed wi thi or
else tha'd just ha thrown ten shillin away. Awm varry mich obliged to
yo, young man, for all th' trubble yo've takken to suit him, an aw
hardly like to goa aght withaat buyin summat. Yo happen dooant have onny
pooastage stamps?"

"Oh, yes."