Deer Sammywell.

If tha doesnt get this letter be sewer an' rite to let me know as awm nooan fond o' wastin mi time penkin ower a piece a papper all for nowt an' if tha does get it tha need'nt bother to let me know for awm ommost at mi wits end an' fowks cryin shame on thi for leeavin me as tha does an' aw've had nowt to ait nobbut a cup o' teah sin tha left except a beefsteak an' a box o' pills an' ha they'll do for me aw connot tell yet but awl let thi know next letter an' tha mun tell me iwerything tha does an' says for awve had a nasty dream abaat thi an' aw fancied tha wor an' angel an' aw dooant want thi to fly away an' leeav me befoor tha's settled thi club'at should o' been paid last wick an' awr Hepsaba says at they'll happen present thi wi a legion o' horror an' if they do aw want thi to leeav it behind for we've lots o' flaysom stuff here already an' black clocks creeps abaat wi as mich cheek as if it wor them at paid th' rent an' we're swarmin wi flees noa moor at present soa tak care o' thi umberel an' be careful for tha knows what aw meean for tha'rt a gronfather an aw believe awr Hepsaba's child is gooin to have th' meeasles wi kind love noa moor at present Billy's mother is ommost ranty abaat him for th' last brewin is soa waik wol it will'nt run aght o' th' barrel an soa noa moor at present—

A'a Sammywell ha can ta fashun

To leav thi wife i' this here fashion

When tha owt to be at hooam mindin thi wark.

But aw believe tha wor nivver fond o' wark.

Nah tha sees aw can rite as weel as thee an' if ther isnt as mich poetry in it thers a deeal moor sense in it nor ther is ith' mooast o' thine soa noa moor at present An' aw remane

Thi lawful wife an' dooant forget it

Mally Grimes.

A'a! shoos th' same old lass as ivver shoo wor an' wi all her faults aw love her still. "Nah Billy, whear are we to steer to to-day? What says ta if we goa an' have a luk at th' Tuileries for they tell me at its a grand spot?"

"Aw care nowt abaat it! Aw wish we wor gooin back hooam for aw call this a waste o' booath time an' brass."

"Oh, tha'll begin to enjoy thisen nah an' awm sewer tha luks better an' aw hav'nt heeard thi say owt abaat bein bilious sin yesterdy mornin."

"Bilious! Who th' duce does ta think can be bilious in a country like this? Ther's nowt to get bilious on!"

"Awm sewar tha's seemd to enjoy thisen as far as aitin an' drinkin's consarned, happen tha'd like a bottle o' ale befoor we start off?"

"Nay aw want noa ale. Aw dooant fancy it here th' same as when awm at hooam. Aw wonder ha mi poor mother's gettin on. Ther's that three quarters o' malt, an' here am aw payin soa mich a day for hallockin mi time away dooin nowt; but let's start off for if ther's owt to see we may as weel be lukkin."

It wor a grand mornin, th' sky wor a breeter blue nor awd ivver seen it an' as we walked on th' river side all wor gay an' bustlin, an' th' air wor soa pure an' sweet wol it made us booath feel leeter, an' altho' it wor varry whut it did'nt seem to weary us. Th' Tooileries, (yo can buy a pictur on em for a penny,) aw shall'nt forget em in a hurry, we walked raand em but it ud ha killed th' best pairt ov a day to ha done em justice, pairt on em wor still standin up, blackened ruins, a monument grim an' ghastly to testify to th' blind fury ov a lot o' misguided fanatics at had escaped aght o' th' harness ov law's authority, an' to gratify ther unreasonin desires for destruction, wrecked beauties, at nawther ther brains nor ther purses had ever helpt to raise, an' left as a legacy to others, th' cost an' th' labor to patch up, an' as far as can be, replace what their senseless rage had destroyed, an' to try to blot aght th' black stain,'at an' insane mob had left on the blooid red page ov th' darkest day throo which fair France has passed.

We went throo th' Louvre next, an' if Payris could booast nowt else it could still hold up its heead an' be praad;—even Billy wor varry quiet as we went throo one gallery after another, an' aw must confess'at aw wornt sooary when we gate aght for ther wor soa mich to dazzle one wol th' pleasur wor painful. Just as we turned th' corner, Billy clapt his hand o' mi shoolder an' browt us booath to a deead stand—"Sithee! by gum! did ta ivver see sich a oonion as that i' thi life?"

Aw lukt, an' reight enuff it wor a queer object at wor anent us, an' it did'nt luk mich unlike a monster oonion th' wrang end up, an' as it sway'd throo side to side it lukt like th' dome o' St. Paul's on th' rant, "Why," aw says, "that's th' baloon! What says ta if we have a ride?"

"Whear too?"

"Up ith' air an' daan agean."

"But what better shall we be when we get daan agean?"

"When we goa up we shall be able to see all ovver Payris at once, an' it'll be a grand seet."

"Will it!—Well if tha thinks awve come here to mak as big a fooil o' misen as tha art, thart mistakken if tha wants to goa sky-larkin tha can goa, but if awve ony larks awl have em o' th' graand."

"Well, Billy, aw nivver thowt tha'd be flaid ov a bit ov a thing like that, aw gave thi credit for moor pluck."

"Pluck! does ta think at aw've kept a aleus at th' moorend all theas years withaat pluck? Ther's moor pluck i' my little finger nor ther is ith' whooal carcase ov a played-aght-old-poverty-knocker like thee, an' if aw tak a fancy to goa up to th' mooin, aw shall goa!"

We'd to pay a franc to get into th' square whear it wor, an' then it wor 20 francs to have a ride, "ray-ther a heigh price," aw sed to Billy.

"Well its happen a heigh journey," he sed, "but awst want to have a gooid luk at it befoor aw ventur, net at aw care owt abaat it whether its safe or net, but just to see ha its contrived for commin daan. Well, aw do wonder what they'll do next! ther's engines here big enuff to work a factory, an' a rooap thick enuff to tug th' Great Eastern an' as mich clooath used to mak that gurt bag as ud ha supplied ivvery poor body i' Payris wi a new suit, an' as mich gas to fill it as ud sarve my aleus for aw dooant know ha long; an' ther's as monny sailors to attend to it, as John de Morgan can find sixpences ith' collectin' box, an' its all for what? Nowt i' this world but to suit a lot o' strackle-brained fooils at'll be just as wise, or less, after they've come daan as they wor befoor they went up."

But i' spite o' all he had to say he meant gooin up, aw could see; net at he wanted, an' net becoss he'd noa fear abaat it, but just on accaant o' me havin spokken as aw did, an' rayther nor be thowt to be short o' pluck, he'd ha gooan up if he'd felt sewer he'd nivver ha come, daan. Aw cant say'at aw felt varry mich up on it, but aw wornt gooin to give Billy th' chonce to crow ovver me, soa we went to th' little office an bowt a ticket apiece an' wor sooin stood up amang a scoor moor in a big raand mahogny tub'at they called a car. Th' time coom for us to be off an' after as mich bustle an' shaatin as if we wor gooin to th' north powl, th' captain,—(Aw suppooas he'd be a captain;)—sed, "Now we're off!" in as plain English as aw ivver heeard. But aw did'nt see'at we wor gooin up at all, for we did'nt seem to stir, but when Billy lukt ovver th' edge he turned to me an' says, "E'e'gow! lad, th' world's tummelin!" An' that wor just like what it seemed like, for asteead o' us seemin to be leeavin th' world, th' world seemed to be leeavin us.

Well, it wor a wonderful seet reight enuff; but when we'd getten to th' end ov th' journey, an had mustered courage enuff to have a gooid stare raand, Payris nobbut lukt a littlish spot compared wi all we could see beyond it. A chap'at acted as guide gave a lectur, an' pointed aght ivverything worth noatice, but as it wor all i' French it wor Dutch to Billy an' me. We coom daan as gently as we'd gooan up, an' aw fancied at we all seemed in a bigger hurry to get aght nor we'd been to get in—When we stud once agean o' solid graand Billy stamped on it to mak sewer at it did'nt shake an' findin it as firm as usual he turned to me, "Well, what does ta think on it?"

"Why, awm glad we've been up," aw sed, "for it 'll be summat for us to tawk abaat."

"Eeah, but awm glad we've come daan, for if we had'nt ther'd ha been summat moor to tawk abaat, an' ony chap at'll goa up i' that consarn aboon once, unless he's weel paid for it, owt to stop up. Sup-pooas th' rooaps had brokken whear should we ha stopt thinks ta? Happen ha gooan up an' up wol we'd struck bang agean th' top an' had to stick thear! It's what aw call flyin ith' face o' Providence an' its a thing'at owt to be stopt."

"Whear shall we goa next; suppooas we try Notter dame."

"Try who tha likes if they sell a daycent article."

"Aw wornt meeanin owt to ait an' drink, aw meant a famous church'at ther is."

"Suit thisen, but awst nooan caar long to hear th' New Testyment made a fooil on."

We walked daan th' river side an' grand it wor—th' watter is a deeal cleaner nor th' Thames, but th' river's varry narrow an' ther's bridges ivvery few yards. Th' steeam booats wor full o' gaily dressed men an' women, an' music wor playin, an scoars 0' little booats wor skimmin along; all lukt lively an' fowk seemed happy. At ivvery convenient spot ther wor men fishing wi ther long rods, an' lollin ith' sun watchin th' bit o' cork bob up an' daan ith' watter; an' aw may as weel mention it here; aw saw th' same chaps ivvery day ith' same spots, sometimes early ith' mornin, sometimes when it wor ommost to dark to see, noa matter whativver time aw passed they wor at ther old pooasts. Judgin bi ther dress they wornt fishin for a livin, an' after lukkin at ther baskets an' nivver bein able to see at one on em had getten owt, aw made it aght at they must be fishin for enjoyment, an' aw hooap they catched it. Wol aw wor takken up wi watchin'em Billy wor tryin to mak aght what wor gooin on o' th' other side. "Sithee, Sammy! What's all yond; wimmen reckonin to be dooin? Are they weshin'?"

He'd guessed reight, an' thear they wor in a long shed at seemed to be fit up wi ivverything they wanted, soa far as we could see at that distance, an' they wor splashin an' brayin an' stampin an' tawkin as if ther lives depended o' which could mak th' mooast ov a slop an' th' biggest din. As we went walkin on, one o' th' seets at lukt to us mooast strange, wor th' number o' men walkin abaat i' black petticoits an' brooad brimmed hats. If a chaps face is an index to his karracter, as some fowk say it is, th' fewer o' th' priests, sich as we met, an' th'better for th' country aw should think. Aw dooant want to say owt to offend onybody, but to be truthful awm foorced to say 'at aw pivver saw sich a lot o' ill favvord fowk i' mi life, an' if Madam Tooswords wants to add another chamber o' horrors to her show shoo could'nt do better nor get th' casts o' some o' their mugs. Ther's noa likelihood o' ony wolves destroyin ony o' their flocks, soa long as they've sich scarecrows for shepherds. Still they seemed a jolly lot, but just as we gate to th' Cathedral a oppen cab drives up, wi a priest in it i' full cannonicals, white lawn sleeves an' all to booit; but th' seet on it knocked th' wind aght 0' booath Billy an' me.—Aw dooant say'at what we saw wor wrang—aw say at it did'nt luk reight to us—for he wor lollin' back ith' cab, dressed as awve tell'd yo, withaat hat, an' smokin a short public haase clay pipe—It saands strange to yo awve noa daat, but its true, an' when he jumpt aght, he lifted up his petticoit an' pooled some paper aght ov his pocket, an' stuffed some into th' pipe heead, put it in his pocket, spit onto th' porch ov a temple erected for th' holiest o' purposes, an' makkin some mooation at aw did'nt understand, he walked in, aw hooap wi motives purer nor his clooas or his breeath wor likely to be. At ivvery corner at yo'd to pass, wor a woman kneelin on a cheer, an' dressed to luk as solemn as a mute at a funeral, an' to render as ugly as possible, faces an' forms'at God had made beautiful; an' they'd each on 'em a bag i' ther hand wi a few coppers in it, an' they shook'em as yo went past. Aw did drop a copper into one but Billy wod'nt, for he sed if they wanted to cadge let'em goa aght into th' street an' cadge reight. He'd hardly getten th' words aght ov his maath when he sprang back an' planted his heavy booit fair at top ov a corn at awve been nursin for th' thick end o' thirty year, an' made me exhibit a one-legged performance at wor somewhat aght o' place just then, but Billy wor too mad to tak ony noatice, an' wor havin a row wi a long lank wizzened carcase an' face at belanged to a woman at stood behind a little table, an' had a little besom in her hand, but when Billy axed her what shoo'd done that for? shoo held up a bag wi some moor coppers in an' shook it at him grinnin at him like a monkey. "What's to do?" aw ax'd for it wornt a place to kick up a disturbance in—"Shoo's slarted me all ovver mi face wi watter aght o' that besom."

"Tak noa noatice," aw sed, "it's a practice they have i' this country to sprinkle fowk wi what they call holy watter;—ha mich did ta pay her for it?"

"Pay her! does ta think aw've gooan cleean of th' side?"

"Well, if tha hasnt paid her owt tha's lost nowt an' tha sees shoo has lost her watter, an' her trouble."

Th' watter will'nt matter much for shoo'll be able to mak some moor as sooin as that's done, an' as for th' trouble,—if awd had her aghtside awd ha gein her trouble. But Sammy, is this a church or is it some sooart ov a bazaar? Sithee, thers a woman thear sellin candles, an' another little picturs an' gimcracks, aw did'nt know they allaad fowk to sell stuff in a church. "What's yond chap dooin." We went to see, an' he wor tawkin away at a gate an' as fowk went in he handed em a ticket for which they paid. We follered an' he gave us each a ticket for 50c. an' we went to see th' wonders o' th' Treasury, as it wor called. Aw quite agree wi Billy'at it wor a sell, for ther wor little to see, an' that little not near as well worth seein as ony silversmiths shop winder. We did'nt stop long thear, but we had a long stroll throw th' buildin, an' it is a wonder—its a whoal mass o' beauties—an' someha it has'nt soa mich ov a luk ov a gravestooan makkers show raam, as awr St. Paul's an' Westminster Abbey—but one thing spoilt it all to me, for it seemed to sarve noa purpose nobbut money makkin, an' aw wonderd if th' time ud ivver come when another Man should mak a scourge an' drive aght th' desecraters ov His Father's temple—It's ommost time!

When we left that grand old pile, we crossed a street an' entered a buildin whear daily can be seen th' mooast sorrowful an' sickenin seet i' Paris. Aw meean th' Morgue. When th' remembrance ov ivvery other seet has faded, that'll still be fresh. It will'nt be rubbed aght an' yo connot blot it aght, aw wish aw could. Billy gave one glance raand—"Aw'll wait for thi aghtside," he sed, an' he wod'nt ha had long to wait if it had'nt been'at aw felt it a sooart ov a duty to see all at wor to be seen. It wor a scorchin hot day aghtside, but as sooin as yo entered this bare comfortless lukkin place, yo felt a chill creep all ovver yo. Why it is'at places intended to contain objects soa repulsive should be contrived i' sich a way as to add to th' painfulness o' th' Exhibition aw could nivver tell; but soa it is. Even i' Payris, whear glass an' glitter meets yo at ivvery turn, an' ornamentation runs wild ovver ivverything, recent or ruined, they could'nt spare one solitary touch to soften an' subdue soa agonizin a show—But th' place wor full o' fowk an' 'at ther wor summat moor nor common aw could guess. Inside a big glass screen, like th' winder ov a fish shop, wor a big braan stooan slab wi watter tricklin ovver it, an' on it wor laid three bodies'at had been pickt aght o' th' river; one a man, but aw will'nt say owt abaat it—it wor too fearful for me to try to paint it—one wor a bonny little lad abaat four years old, weel nourished, an' ivvery thing it had on throo its shoes to its hat showed ha praad sombody had been on it—My heart ached as aw thowt o' that poor mother at wor somwhear lamentin' her loss, an' yet buildin up hooaps at one glance at that little face wod settle for ivver—But it wor th' third, raand which th' craad wor clusterin;—it wor that ov a young woman, beautiful i' booath face an' form—soa beautiful'at it wor hard to believe her deead. What could have caused her put an end to a life'at had hardly fully blossomed into womanhood? It could'nt be poverty, for th' jewels still on her small white hands, wod ha beep enough to ha warded off want for a long time; 'er whole dress showed signs ov wealth an' extravagance. Aw could nobbut wonder an' feel sad an' repeat

"Has she a Father?

Has she a mother?

Has she a sister?

Has she a brother?

Or is there a nearer one

Still, and a dearer one?"

It lukt hard to see one soa young an' fair laid o' that weet stooan, past all help—One could but sigh an' walk away

"Admitting her weakness,

Her evil behaviour;

But leaving with meekness,

Her sins to her Saviour."

When aw joined Billy agean aw wor startin to tell him all abaat it—"Shut up!" he sed, "aw saw quite enuff, an' aw want to hear nowt noa moor abaat it. If it suits thee to goa maunderin abaat seekin' foi sorrow, it doesnt me. Aw want summat to ait, an' it'll have to be summat substantial, soa leead th' way into th' furst place tha comes to at tha thinks gradely."

We kept walkin on, an' havin soa mich to luk at, we went a long way withaat callin, but at last aw sed, "Wod ta like a plain sooart ov a shop or mun we goa to a showy spot?"

"Aw care nowt abaat it whether its plain or net if ther's summat fit to feed a true born Englishman throo Yorksher, but tha'll ha thi wark set to find a place here'at isnt showy—in fact as far as aw can judge, it's moor show nor owt else i' this blessed country; th' Exhibition is a big show—th' baloon's another show—yond doncin demons wor a show—th' churches are turned into shows—ther deead haase is a show—ther buildins are stuck up an' bedizened wi gingerbreead an' gilt, all for show—th' men an' wimmen are all shuffle an' show—an' sithee here! awm blowed if ther isnt a church steeple stuck up for a show! Well, that's a rum en! Aw've monny a time seen a church baat steeple but this is th' furst time aw ivver saw a steeple baat church!"

"Its true what tha says, an' a grand monument it maks ith' middle o' this square. It luks weel doesnt it?"

"Luks! aw care nowt abaat ha it luks! What is it for? That's what aw want to know! What's th' use o' fillin up a place wi stuff at's o' noa use nobbut to be lukt at?"

"They'll nivver stick thee up to be lukt at, for tha am't hansom enuff, soa tha need'nt freeat!" aw says, for aw felt a bit nettled.

"Noa, aw dooant hardly think they will, an' aw should fancy they havnt been to ax thee yet, have they? Aw think my turn'll be abaat th' next after thine."

Aw did'nt answer him back, for a varry gooid reason; as long as a chap tawks sense awl tawk to him, but as sooin as he maks a fooil ov hissen aw've done.

"Nah then, will this shop suit thi?" aw sed, as aw stopt anent a resteraunt door.

"If its fit for a littleary chap like tha reckons to be, it should be gooid enuff for a chap at keeps a aleus at th' moor end."

"If tha thinks tha can get my monkey up wi mak-kin a desplay o' thi own stupid ignorance tha'rt varry much mistakken! for awl nawther be put aght o' temper wi thee nor a man twice as gooid! an' if tha'rt anxious to be shut o' mi cumpny, aw think awst be able to spare thine!" an' aw walked on leavin him to suit hissen whether he follerd me or net. Aw went to th' end o' th' street an' wor just enterin another square wi another big monument ith' middle, when aw turned raand to see if he wor comin, an' just as aw did soa aw felt as if a cannon ball had landed o' mi stummack. A potbellyed Frenchman, donned i' red britches, an' a black coit an' a white appron teed raand him baanced abaat a yard off on me an' began tawkin an' shruggin his shoolders an' poolin his face into all sooarts o' shaps—nah it ud ha been better for him if he wor anxious to mak mi acquaintance, to ha chosen another time—Aw did'nt loise mi temper, coss awd made up mi mind'at aw wod'nt, but aw just gave him one for his nob'at sent him spinnin like a castle top, an' his hat flew monny a yard, an' aw stood ready to give him another o' th' same sooart if he thowt it worth his while to fotch it, but he did'nt, an' varry sooin two or three gethered raand us an' lukt as if they meant mischief to me, but aw kept cooil—aw wor detarmined aw wod'nt be put aght o' temper; an' aw seized hold o' mi umberel an' aw just felt as if aw could fettle abaat a duzzen on em—or two duzzen for th' matter o' that,—its cappin what a chap fancies he can do if he nobbut keeps cooil.—Just then Billy coom up an' th' Frenchman went up to him an' aw suppooas bi th' way he kept pointin to me, he wor tryin to explain matters, an' although Billy could'nt tell a word he sed he seemed to understand what he meant, an' he sed to me, "come on Sammy, awve ordered steaks an' puttates for two, an' another bottle o' red ink. Tha's nowt to be feeard on, it'll be all reight."

"Feeard on! ther's nowt aw am feeard on! Aw shuddent be feeard o' thee if tha wor twice as big as tha art, aw can tell thi that mich! Tha's been tryin all tha knows this mornin to mak me loise mi temper, but tha'rt suckt, for it'll tak a better man nor thee!"

"Well, aw dooant think tha has lost it, Sammy, it'd be a gooid job if tha had, an aw should pity th' chap at fun it, but ther's a treat for thi; tha could'nt ha pickt aght a better shop nor this if tha'd gooan all throo Payris, for ther's a stooan mason throo Manchester gettin his dinner, an' he can tawk awther French or English, an' he's knockt off wark for th' day, an' he's willing to show us raand."

This wor gooid news an' it made me feel—(not better tempered, becoss awd nivver been aght o' temper, tho' Billy swears to this day at aw wor as mad as a wasp, but then he's a poor judge o' human natur is Billy;) but it made me feel moor,—well, moor,—aw hardly know what to say, but yo'll know what aw meean, for awve noa daat yo've felt that way yorsen. When we gate in, he wor as pleeased to see us as we wor to see him, an' he sooin made th' Frenchman, (who turned aght to be th' maister) understand ha things stood, an' then he shuk hands wi me an' bowed, an' sed summat; an' th' mason tell'd me at he wor sayin 'he wor varry sooary if he'd hurt me, an' hooaped aw should forgie him;' "Ov coorse," aw sed, "tell him awm one'at nivver bears malice, an' at he mun thank his stars he met me when he did, for if aw had'nt happened to be i' th' best humour ith' world, aw should ha fettled his nop for him."

"Eeah, friend, be sewer an' tell him that for it'll happen saand moor like trewth i' French nor it does i' English—" Th' steaks happenin to come in just at that time put an' end to th' tawk, an' it wornt long befoor we put an end to th' steak. Then they browt us a big dish o' fruits—grapes an' plums an' apples an' peaches, an' we had a reight tuck in. "Aw dooant think aw've etten as mich crash sin aw wor a lad," aw sed, an' Billy sed he wor sewer he had'nt, an' he'd noa idea it wor as gooid as it wor!

"Well," th' mason sed, "that is owing to the climate, you would'nt enjoy the same things as well at home—I get fruit for breakfast. I dont think you drank much claret when you was at home."

"Awm sewer we did'nt," sed Billy, "for aw supt nowt but ale, an' nah aw hardly feel to care for it. But aw dooant think ale's as gooid here as it is at hooam."

"It ought to be for it comes from the best English breweries, but look at these workmen gettin their dinners, they look a fine set of men."

An' they did, an' Billy an' me did watch em, as aw began wonderin whether or net it wor true, at English fowk had all th' sense ith' world. Its worth while givin an' accaant o' their dinner, for this book will noa daat fall into th' hands o' monny a workin' chap at's apt to grummel even if he has to put up wi a beefsteak at hasnt come off th' steak booan, an' it may do him noa harm to know ha other fowk live.

One bottle o' claret, for which they paid a franc—a looaf, abaat a yard long, an' abaat as thick as mi arm, for which they paid half a franc—a jug o' cold watter an' three tumbler glasses. Aw wonder what three stooan masons at hooam wod ha made aght o' that for ther dinner—fifteen pence wor all it cost for three on em. They each hawf filled ther glass wi wine, then filled it up wi watter, an' then divided th' looaf into three, an' each takkin a fooit on it, they pooled pieces off an dipped it into ther wine an' watter an ate it wi a relish. "Sewerly," aw sed, "tha doesnt mean to say at that's all they'll ha to ther dinner."

"But it is, and what may surprise you to know is that breakfast and supper only differ by the addition of fruit or some simple vegetable, and yet they can work for twelve hours a day, and they dont look bad."

"They're three o' th' finest chaps aw've seen sin aw coom into Payris," aw sed, "but aw should think they'll hardly be able to do as mich wark as Englishmen?"

"Well, its generally thought so, but my experience is that they do—They never break any time—I have been here nearly two years and have over two hundred men under me—and there has never one lost a day through drink since I came."

"Well, its cappin isn't it Billy? one could hardly ha believed it if they had'nt seen it. What wod English masons think if they'd to be stopt off ther beef an ale?"

"Nay, its flaysome to think on, it maks me low spirited,—let's sup off an' be gooin—its as ill as th' deead haase is this."

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