Nay fer sewer!" sed Betty Longtongue, as Sally Jibjab had finished tellin her 'at one o' th' neighbor's husband's had getten turned off. "Well, awm capt he didn't get seck'd long sin, for they tell me he wor niver liked amang th' work fowk, an' awm sure aw've seen him go in to his wark monny a time a full clock haar after awr lot's had to be thear. But aw thawt he'd find his level at last, an' awm net oft mistakken, far aw can see a hoil in a stee as weel as th' maaast."

"Why but it has'nt been owt abaat his wark 'at he's been seck'd for, but him an' two or three moor have been playin a trick o' Jane Sucksmith's husband, an' its getten to th' maister's ears, an' soa they seck'd him thear an' then."

"Nay fer sewer! whatever will ta say! Why what has he been dooin? Same mak o' pousement aw'll be bun for't."

"Well, aw can nobbut tell th' tale as it wor tell'd to me tha knows; but her 'at tell'd me, had it tell'd bi somdy 'at had heeard it throo one 'at owt to know, soa its true enuff. It seems old Sucksmith had been drinkin tother day, an' he must ha getten moor nor he could carry, an' tha knows as weel as me 'at he can sup moor nor what ud mak some fowk druffen, an' walk as steady as if he'd swallow'd a church, steeple an' all; an' he ligg'd him daan o' some sheets o' wool 'at wor bi th' rooad side, an' as Musty wor goain past he saw him, an' soa he thowt he'd have a marlock, an' he went an' fun up some ov his chums an' they gate sooit an' daub'd his face wol he luk'd war nor old Scrat hissen."

"Nay fer sewer! Why they mud easily do that aw believe, for he's nooan a gooid favvor'd chap at th' best hand."

"Noa he isn't, but they worn't content wi' that but Musty went an' gate some sooart o' paader 'at they use to dye red worset an' sich like stuff wi', an he tuk off his cap an' sprinkled it all amang his toppin, an then they left him, an' in a bit he wakken'd up, for all th' childer ith district wor gethered raand him, starin at him. Just then Musty, 'at had been waiting abaat, reckoned to come past in a great hurry, an' as sooin as he saw Sucksmith, he set up a gurt shaat o' laffin, an says, "Whativer has ta been doain, aw niver saw sich a freet i' mi life." Sucksmith wor reight gaumless for a while, but he says, "What is ther to laff at? Did ta niver see me befoor thinks ta?" "Well aw niver saw thi luk like that affoar onnyway. Whoiver is it 'at's been playin thee this trick?"

"What trick does ta meean?" he sed.

"Why doesn't ta know at thi face is all daubed wi sooit?"

Sucksmith put up his hand to feel, an' when he saw his fingers all grimed, he sed, "Aw wish aw knew who'd done this, Musty; awd be straight wi' him, an sooin too. To think 'at a chap connot fall asleep in a Kristine country withaat havin his face painted war nor a paysayger, but awst find it aght someday."

"Well, aw think its th' best plan to goa wi' me to th' "Blue Dunnock," sed Musty, an' gie thisen a gooid wesh."

Soa they went an' all Musty's mates wor set waitin in another raam.

Th' landlady wor varry gooid i' findin him some sooap an' watter, o'th' sinkstooan, an' he started to give hissen a reight gooid swill, an as sooin as th' watter gate to this stuff 'at they'd put ov his heead, it began to roll daan th' color o' blooid, an' as sooin as he oppen'd his e'en he saw it, an' he thowt at first it must be his nooas 'at wor bleedin, an' as th' landlady worn't abaat, he blew his nooase oth towel to see, but it worn't, then he put up his hand to his heead an' thear it wor sure enuff. He ommost fell sick when he saw it, an' he called for Musty as laad as he could, to see what wor to do. "Whativer's th' matter wi me thinks ta, Musty? Just Iuk, awm bleedin like a pig."

"A'a, dear, A'a dear! Why tha must ha brokken a blooid vessel."

"Aw think awve brokken two or three," sed Sucksmith "but what mun aw do?"

"Sewse thi heead wi cold watter; ther's nowt stops bleedin like cold watter. Why, if tha gooas on tha'll bleed to th' deeath."

"Aw begin to feel faint already," sed Sucksmith, as he started o' throwin moor watter on his heead; but th' moor he put on an' th' moor blooid seemed to come, an' he sed, "Oh, dear! aw believe awm done for this time, Musty; doesn't ta think tha'd better send for a doctor?"

When he lifted up his heead, Musty wor foorced to turn away for a minit to get a straight face, for Sucksmith's wor dyed th' color ov a raw beef steak, an' his heead luk'd like one o' them red door mats 'at tha's seen. But Musty advised him to goa on wi' th' watter, an' he did, an' in a while it begun to have less colour in it, an' Sucksmith's mind began to feel a bit easier.

"Aw think its ommost gien ovver nah," he sed, but luk at mi hands! why they're like a piece o' scarlet cloath."

"Eea, an thi face is th' same; tha luks to me as if tha'd getten th' scarlet-fayvor, an' awm sure ther's summat nooan reight wi' thi; but wipe thisen an' come into tother hoil, ther's some o' thi mates thear, an' we'll see what they say."

Sucksmith did as he wor tell'd, an' went into tother raam with Musty, but ther wor sich a crack o' laffin as sooin as he showed his heead, wol they mud ha fell'd him wi' a bean. "Nah lads," sed Musty, "yo shouldn't laff at a chap's misfortunes, an' awm sure ther's Summat matter wi awr friend Sucksmith, aw tell him it must be th' scarlet fayvor.'

"Well aw niver saw sich a heead i' mi life," sed another, "but its nooan th' scarlet fayvor; my belief is its th' cattle plague, an if it is, an' th' police gets to know they'll have him shot, bi th' heart will they, for they've orders to destroy ivery livin thing 'at shows ony signs o' havin it. But whear has ta been to get it thinks ta?"

"Nay, awve been nowhere 'at aw know on," sed Sucksmith, "aw felt all reight a bit sin, an' aw ligg'd daan o' some sheets o' wool an' fell asleep, an' aw niver knew aw ail'd owt wol aw coom in here to wesh me."

"Why then it will be th' cattle plague, its nowt else, ther's a deal o' sheep had it lately; an' varry likely that's some o' ther wool 'at tha's been sleepin on. But ha does ta feel?"

"Oh, aw feel varry mich alike all ovver,—awm feeared its up we me ommost, an' this has come for a warnin, for aw havn't behaved misen reight latly. But if awm spared to get ovver this awl alter."

"Why tha luks as if tha'd awther getten a warnin or a warmin, bith color o' thi face," sed one, "but aw think tha'd do wi' a glass o' summat to cooil thi daan a bit,—a red Indian's a fooil to thi."

"It must be summat serious," sed another, "are ta th' same color all ovver?"

"Aw dooant know awm sure, an'. aw havn't strength to luk," he sed.

But one o'th' chaps roll'd up his briches slop to see; "Nay, thi leg is all reight." "Well," sed Musty, "tha knows it may be soa, for we've heeard tell o' th' fooit and maath desease, an' this may be th' heead an' hand complaint. But what do yo think it'll be th' best for him to do?"

"I shuild advise him to goa hooam at once, but if ony body should see him they'll varry likely tak him for a literary chap becoss he's so deeply red." "Well, whether they tak him for a little-hairy chap or net, he'll pass for a red hairy chap an' noa mistak," sed Hiram.

But Sucksmith fancied he felt soa waik wol he didn't think he'd be able to walk hooam, soa after all biddin him "gooid bye," for fear they mud niver see him agean an one chap axin him to be sure an' tell his first wife if he met her up aboon, 'at he'd getten wed to her sister, they sent him hooam in a cab.

"Nay fer sewer! Whativer wi ta say? An' whativer did their Margit say when shoo saw him? He must ha luk'd a pictur."

"Nay, aw dooant know what shoo sed, but ther wor a rare racket ith' hoil awl a-warrant thi. But th' gurt softheead stuck in it, 'at he wor poorly, an' as shoo saw he wornt sober shoo humoured him wi lettin him goa to bed. Next mornin he'd come to his senses a bit, soa shoo let him have sich a bit o' tongue as he hadn't had latly, for tha knows shoo's a glaid when shoo starts, for if awd to say quarter as mich to my felly as shoo says to him sometimes, he'd niver darken th' door agean. He began to see what a fooil they'd been makkin on him, an' he gate up intendin to goa to his wark, but when he saw hissen ith' seamin glass, he couldn't fashion, an' soa he began o' weshin hissen first i' cold watter an' then i' hot; but it wor what they call a fast color, an' he couldn't get it to stir do what he wod.

"What mun aw do, Margit?" he sed, when he'd swill'd his heead wi' hot watter wol it wor hauf boiled; "th' moor aw wesh it an' th' breeter it seems to get. If iver aw get all reight agean ther's somdy'll want a new suit o' clooas, but it'll be a wooden en."

"Hold thi noise, lumpheead," shoo sed, "an' get thi braikfast an awl see if aw connot do summat for thi. Aw expect it'll have to be scaar'd off."

Soa after th' braikfast shoo made him ligg daan o' th' hearthstooan, an' shoo gate some wire scale an' started o' scrubbin one side ov his head, as if shoo'd been polishin th' fender; but he couldn't stand that, an' he laup'd up, an' donced up an' daan th' hoil, sayin all sooarts o' awkward things.

"What the dickens are ta thinkin on," he sed, "does ta fancy awm made o' cast-iron?"

"Aw dooan't know what tha'rt made on, but aw know tha artn't made o'th' reight sooart o' stuff for a fayther ov a family to be made on; but if tha connot get it off thisen, an' tha weant let me, tha'll be forced to stop as tha art, that's all." An' away shoo flew aat o' th' haase and left him.

"Nay fer sewer! An' whativer did he do?"

Well, he set daan and studied a bit, then he sent for a doctor, net becoss he felt poorly, but becoss he wanted to know what to do to get it off. Soa th' doctor coom, an' they say he couldn't spaik for iver soa long, for laffin at him; an' he tell'd him he'd be monny a week befoor he gate reight, an' it wod have to wear off by degrees; but his hair, he sed, wod niver be reight, soa he mud as weel have it shaved off sooin as lat. Soa he sent for Timmy, th' barber, an' had it done, an' when his wife coom back, thear he wor set, lukkin for all th' world like a lot o' old clooas wi' a ball o' red seealin wax stuck at th' top; an' thear he is i'th' haase nah, whear he'll ha to stop wol his hair grows agean.

"Nay fer sewer! An does he niver goa aat?"

"Niver,—he did goa to th' door one day when Hiram's little lass went to borrow th' looaf tins, but shoo wor soa freetened, wol shoo ran hooam, an' her mother says shoo believes shoo's gooin to have soor een; mun, he's flaysome to luk at, an' th' child has niver been like hersen sin, an' shoo connot sleep ov a neet for dreamin abaat it."

"Nay fer sewer! An what says Musty?"

"Awve niver heeard what he's sed sin he lost his shop, but Sucksmith says he's noan gooin to let it rest, for he'll send 'em some law if it costs him a paand—An' Musty says he doesn't care ha sooin for he wod be sure ov a bit o' summat to ait if he wor sent daan th' rails—but aw think it'll get made up agean. But awve left yond child ith' creddle bi hersen, soa aw mun be off." Away shoo went an' Sally watched her aat o'th seet, an' then sank into a cheer, roll'd up her arms in her appron, stared into th' fire, an' sed, "Nay fer sewer! Well ov all!—Nay fer sewer!"