"Aw am, an aw'st be moor soa if shoo comes in. Does ta know aw've noa
stockins on, an mi britches is hung ovver th' bed fooit; an this shirt
is a quarter ov a yard to short! Dunnot let her come in whativver tha
does!"

Just then th' door oppened, an a smilin face peep'd in.

"What's to do?" axt Maude Blanche.

"We've been robbed! an that softheead is caarin under th' bed asteead o'
runnin after th' robbers!"

"Turn her aght, Angelina! If tha doesn't aw shall sink throo th' floor.
Gie me mi britches if tha'll do nowt else, an then aw'll see what aw can
do. Maude Blanche! If tha hasn't forgetten all tha's ivver been towt at
th' Sundy schooil, get aght o' this hoil as sharp as tha can! If tha
doesn't tha'll see what tha'll be sorry for as long as tha lives, for aw
cannot stand it!"

Angelina wor soa upset 'at shoo hardly knew what shoo wor dooin, but
shoo pitched James's britches under th' bed, and Maude Blanche wor
laffin wol shoo had to rest ageean th' bed fooit to steady hersen.

James tried to put on his britches, but it wor noa easy matter, but in a
bit he did get his legs into 'em, altho' they wor th' wrang side before,
an then he crept aght, moor deead nor alive, an a deeal war freetened
wi' Maude Blanche nor he wor abaat th' robbers.

"Whear's th' robbers?" he sed, lukkin daan at th' slack ov his britches
an fumblin after th' buttons.