nobbut took one dose, an' hoo's never complain't sin'."

66

Ground-ivy! I's be like to try this 'ground-ivy.'

"Thou'll ha' to try it some day, whether thou likes or not,-th' same as everybody else."

"How's that?"

"Hoo's deeod, mon,-doesn'to see?-hoo's deeod an' buried."

"Thou never says! By th' mass, that is 'ground-ivy' with a vengeance!"

"Yigh. Th' owd craiter's flitted,-an', I doubt, hoo'll pay no rent for th' house 'at hoo's ta'en this time."

"Ay, ay! Hoo's off th' rate-book at last, then, is hoo? Nawe; hoo'll pay no rent down theer, Bill."

"I doubt not. But, whether hoo does or not, they'n never send th' bailies into that hole."

"It's mich if they done, Bill. But then, thou sees, there's nought to sell up, or else." "Well, nawe,—there's nought to speigk on. If it wur o' put up to th' hommer it wouldn't fot (fetch) mich, for sure."

"Nawe, it wouldn't.

Poor owd Mall!

Hoo's out o' th' gate o' th' carts, now.”

Ay; it's a very quiet nook, down theer,

for sure.

Hoo'll not be trouble't wi' mony

folk co'in' a-seein' her, noather."

"Not if they can help it, Bill, not if they

can help it."

"Poor owd craiter!

Hoo's bin bedfast a

good while."

"Ay; hoo'll have had about ten year on't, as far as I can judge."

'I guess hoo has. What, hoo'll be turn't fourscore?"

'Every minute, Bill, every minute. Owd Doldrum wur kilt just nineteen year sin', come Candlemas; I remember it as if it wur to-day."

"Poor owd Mall! Hoo'd a hard poo through after th' owd chap dee'd. I remember 'em tellin' me about a parson co'in' aseein' her; an' it seems this chap bother't an' talked to her about one thing an' another till hoo geet quite daze't i'th' yed; an' at last he axed her if hoo kept the Commandments. 'Eh, maister,' said Mall, 'to tell yo God in heaven's truth, it's as mich as ever I can do to keep mysel'!' Well, wi' that, th' owd lad weren't content, but he at her again, about God, an' the devil, an' which on 'em hoo wur for, an' sich like,-till owd Mall hardly knowed which wur which; an' hoo towd him that there were a time when hoo noather fear't God nor devil; but that now hoo wur thick wi' 'em both. Well, that didn't suit, noather, an' he towd her, mich an' moore

that hoo mutn't ha' nought to do wi' th' devil, o' no shap. 'But, eh, maister,' said owd Mall, 'I connot help feelin' soory for him sometimes, for he's a feaw life on't, bi o' acceawnts.' Well, this wur noan reet, noather; an' th' parson towd her that it sarve't him reet for what he'd done,-an' sich like,-an' come what would, hoo mut (must) drop o' connections wi' the devil, for he'd never do her no good. 'Well, maister,' said owd Mall, 'I thought I wur doin' reet, yo known; becose a body connot tell which on 'em they may ha' to do wi' at th'end of o":"

Poor owd Mall! . . . Well,-I think I'll be hutchin' a bit fur up."

"Arto for gooin', then?" "Ay."

"What's o' thi hurry?"

"Well, I'm o' th' wrang side o' mi' baggin'."

"O' reet; off witho!"

"At after I've 'liver't this stuff, an' getten' mi' baggin', I'll come an' have a bit of a conk wi' yo'."

"That's reet, owd brid!"

[Summer evening.

SNAFFLE O' THATCHER'S and OLD SAM, the landlord, have just climbed the hill. BETTY, who has seen them coming up, in the distance, has spread out the "Baggin'" upon the table. SAM sits down at the table.]

B

Y th' mass, Snaffle," said Sam, wiping his face, "it's bin a stiff poo up that broo."

"Thou'rt so fat, mon."

"Fat! I'm nobbut eighteen stone. Thou should ha' sin my faither; he wur two-an'twenty,-an' as limber as a snig. Fat! Yo connot ha' good meight (meat) beawt fat. Ax Owd Boswell, th' butcher, an' he'll tell tho. As for thee, thou'rt o' gristle, an' jumpin'-pows. If thou wur render't down, they wouldn't get as mich fat out on tho as would grace (grease) a wheel-barrow trindle. It'd be like stewin' a lot o' fire-irons. There isn't stuff enough for a tollow-candle i' whole

bugth (bigness, bulk) on tho, fro' yed to fuut. When thou dees we'n ha' tho hommer't out, an' made into coffin-plates."

'Ay; but yo'n happen need thoose afore I'm ready."

"We happen sha'n, lad.”

(SAM looks at the table.)

"Hello; what han we here? Is this o' for me?"

"To be sure it is," replied Betty.

"What, an' art thou for havin' noan, then?"

"I've had mine."

"An' what wur tho i' sich a splutter for? Thou met (might) ha' waited a bit."

"Well, Sam, if I'd thought thou'd ha' bin back by now, I would ha' waited; but thou knows thou'rt noan to reckon on when thou gets into yon town. I never lippen't o' seein' tho again afore th' edge o' dark. If it had bin th' 'Rushbearin' thou wouldn't ha' londed afore to-morn."

"Nawe I shouldn't, owd lass; an' happen not then. But that's noather here nor theer. I hate gettin' my baggin' by mysel'. Is there nob'dy else i'th' house nobbut thee an' me, thinksto?"

"Nawe; there's nob'dy nobbut Snaffle, theer."