her mellin' on t' job, though shoo were a bonny lass an' all----"

"What mak o' lass is yon?" interrupted Annie. "If he's bin takkin' up
wi' one o' them French lasses, he'll get a bit o' my mind when he cooms
back. He've allus bin fearful fain o' t' lasses, has Jim, an' I've
telled him more nor once I'd have no more on't. An' them Frenchies is
nasty good-for-nowts, I'll warrant. They want a few o' their toppins
pulled."

Here she paused, and the rest of her wrath was vented on the clothes in
the tub. Her mother continued to read aloud:

"Mind you let me know if Leeds beats Barnsla i' t' Midland Section next
Setterday. It'll be a long while afore I clap eyes on a paper aat here,
an' I've putten a bit o' brass on Leeds winnin' t' game. An' tell my
father he mun tak my linnit daan to t' Spotted Duck for t' next singin'
competition. He's a tidy singer is Bobby, if he's nobbut properly looked
efter. Tha mun mesh up a bit o' white o' egg wi' his linseed; there's
nowt like white o' egg for makkin' linnets sing----"

Once again Annie broke in upon the perusal of the letter. "Eh! but t'
lad's fair daft. All he thinks on is fooitball an' linnit matches. White
o' egg for linnits, is it! I'd have him know that eggs cost brass
nah-a-days. Why don't he 'tend to his feightin' an' get a stripe like
Sarah Worsnop's lad ower t' way?"

"Whisht a bit!" exclaimed her mother, "while I've gotten to t' end o' t'
letter. Eh! but he do write bad; t' words is fair tum'lin' ower one
anuther."