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Giles. Good mornin to the, Bridget, how isto?
Bridget. Deftly as out, and as cobby as a lop,


Giles. Wha, marry, thou looks i gay good fettle. Brid. What thinksto o't' weather? Awr house is vara unrid and grimy, t'chimla smudges an reeks seea, an mackst' reckon, at used to shimmer and glissen, nowght bud soote an muck.

Giles. It's now a vara lithe day, bud there war a girt roak, an a rag o't' fells at delleet, an it looked feaful heavisome.

Brid. I oft think a donky, mislin, deggy mornin is a sign o't' pride o't' weather, for it oft worsels up, an is maar to be liked ner t'element full o' thunner packs er a breet, scaumy sky.

Giles. Wha, when't bent's snod, hask,


an slaap, its a strang sign of a pash.

Brid. I've oft obsarved there bes been a downfaw soon efter; bud for sure, I cannot gaum mich be ouer chimla at prisent, its seea smoored up wi mull an brash. Yusterday about noon, t' summer goose flackered at naya lile rate, an t'element, at edge o' dark, wor feaful full of filly tails an hen scrattins.Thou knaws that's a sartain sign ov a change, sometimes I've knaan it sile and teem efter.


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Giles. Whear's yawer Tom, I've been laten him i'th' misto, bud cannot leet on him.

Brid. Misto, barn! wha, he's gaan aboon two howers sin weet Fadder to git eldin, nabody knaws how far; an th' gaite frayth' moor is seea dree, unbane, an parlous; lang Rig brow is seea braut, at they're foarced to stangth' cart, an th' wham, boon t' gill heead, is seea mortal sumpy an soft, at it tacks cart up tot kitaif ommost iv'ry yerd. Gangin ower some heealdin grand, they welted cart ower yusterday, an brack th' barkum, haams, and two felks. It hoins t' galloway feafully, seea that I dunnot lite on em mich afore neet; an I's sure Joan's vara unfit to be oute lat; for hees lang been vara indifferent, and hees now notbud thus an seea, for hees niver gitten better o't' surfeit he gat last Kersmas wi' bloazing and wi' trashin i'th' snaw broth eftert' hares. An he doesn't cast it soon, I'se flaid it'l turn out to be t'shakken i'th' end.

Giles. Wheaz cart hey the?

Brid. Wer awn. It wor crazy an wankle enif wi' boonin fort' landlord, an leadin hedge-rise last spring; bud now it au etow, it'l nut hod togither bout wanteaus an o'erlays, it sarras for nout bud a mackshift.

Giles. Owr lile Dick sud a hugg'd th' dad his dinner to't' moor, bud as lads, thou knaws, er oft i' a mischief, an, etraath, there nivver wor t'marrow to him, what hed to do, lile gauvison, bud gang an climth' stee i'ower heigh laithe, clecam'd up ageeant' black havver-strea moo, an neck an heels down he tummeld lang-streak'd at laithe floor.

Giles. How leet it?

Brid. Thou minds I'd been kemmin awyer Sal, idle scallops, an her hair war seca felter'd an cotter'd wi' elflocks, for want o' powlin, sin shoe'dt' reef, at I lugg'd her a bit wi' lashin. What did shoe do, lile tetchy calletin monkey, bud tack pet, and gang off in a girt hig and whither. Lile Dick hed naa sooner gitten his poddish an a shive o' bread, cleeam'd wi'

treacle, ner out he tacks efter her, to lake at chicken chow i't' laithe. Il condition'd cross-grain'd monkies, their tempers pan seea weel, at for aut ward they're like cayter cousins. They're seea thick, at they're nivver fra taentother. They'll nut do a hand's turu. There's nut a pin to chuse between Sall an her broo, for they'll nut be said. Look what'll come on 'em at last! Sall, outoponner, girt lither, lingey, wallopiu gammer-stang, he'd nowght else to do bud climth' stee, an he hard efter her.When shoe'd clum to't' top stavv, they begins a fratchin an rockin th' stee; out, thou minds, it sherls at foote, an down t'lad drops. As stee wer rosseled, fram gor an masker'd, it brack aw to smash. I'd nobbud brout inth' claaths at were just blaanned, an war sindin out kit an piggau, I hears a sow i'th' air, an as fast as foote cud faw, I tacks toth' laithe door; I sees Dick sprahlin at grund. I githers him up, thou minds, and he begins to wratch an boaken, his noaz aw clung wi' bloode, an his forehead rauk'd a bit; I fully thowt he wad a sounded away, for he was parfitly as coud as an iceshackle. Howsomivver, efter eed wesh'd his face an snited his noaz, he soon comes to his sell ageean. I happens to glent up my ee, an wheea sud I spy bud ower Sal clickin fast wi' baith hands tot' bawk, fidging like mad wi' her fit, flaid shoe sud faw an breek her neck, I tacks off, helter skelter, to Joan Thompson's, o' Gill Bodhum, for their steigh; I finns nabody i't' house bud Mally, I wor seea out o' wind at I wheaz'd gin I wor bellon'd, at I cud hardly tell her me eearand. I'th' end, I gat her to help me to hugth' steigh. E commin back ageean owert' slaap hippins, weet' steigh onner shoulders, down we baath drops, soss intot' beck! Ι hurt bufft o' my arm an ya theigh seea ill, at it wark'd past bidin. Mally spreeans ya whirlbaan, jowls her heeod an left chaff, an grazes her hug-baan. Shoe meaned hersel like a cowshut, for au shoe wor seea full o' pain, herpled an hobbled seea, (an thou knaws shoe's nut yan at hauts at a lile sair), I pray'd on

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her to mak sharp, an to git endays as fast as shoe cud. I wor feaful flaid shoe'd nivver a dreed toth' uvver side o'th' Gill; an thou knaws shoe ollas pleeans feafully o' nang-nails. Mally war seea slow

'foote, at I yarks steigh off her shooder, an pashes afore her, an I soon hears her roarin out, "titter up brant hovver." As soon as ivver we gat tot' laithe, 1 looks up for Sall, an, God forgimme, I cudn't hod fray laughin, when I sees her kronkin astride o’th' bawk, her hair full of Attercops, mackin a feaful heyba, and gloarin wi' her een like onny hullet in a loup hole. We soon rear'd up th' steigh, bud happenin to be full weet shorts't, we samm'd up to-a-three desses o' hay, an put it on't, an seea we gat her down saaf. I paid her, an fettl'd reight, an gav her a lile threapen, camplin Dannot, my vardite, I sighed her lugs for her, an warm'd her jerkin wi' a sound switching, an bensill'd her purely, to mack her think on, girt sled-hoffs, how she com theear nesht time.

Giles. War Dick mich war?

Brid. Hees gitten a girt cowl on his heead, an hurt his shooder baan. He becom stark efter a bit, an roopy wi' bellin an roarin. He blother'd an slavver'd like onny bull cauf. He wor seea sadly flaid, at he sweeat while he reek'd ageean. But what griev'd me mare than aw wor, hees riven a pare o1 breeks ommost to fatters, at wor maad for him brand new to gang a yewlin in last Kersmus. Ithoute, forsure, when I gat up, that chatterin nanpie, peark'd i'th' ran-tree, betided naa good, at did 'e.

Giles. Is yawer Tom strang enif now to grave

flahs ?

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Brid. Ay, barn! hees waxen a gay, leathewake, fendible, whelkin, haspenald tike, and thou sees, i' thur hard times, we mun teugh an ddle summat, an as t'weather hez just taan up, we mun lig too't.

Giles. Wha, wha, as t'weather hez been seea unsartin, an t'rain hez fawn seea mich i' planets, titter and better.

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