Delia: Is it that you are without e’er a rag, and that ancient coat to be hanging on the wall?

Damer: The place swept to flitters!  What is that man of yours doing and he handling my turf?

Ralph: It was herself thought to be serviceable to you, setting out the fuel that was full of dampness where it would get an air of the fire.

Damer: To dry it is it? (Seizes sods and takes them from the hearth.) And what length would it be without being burned and consumed and it not to be wet putting it on? (Pours water over it.) And I after stacking it purposely in the corner where there does be a drip from the thatch.

Ralph: She but thought it would be more answerable to you being dry.

Damer: What way could I bear the expense of a fire on the hearth and it to leave smouldering and to break out into a blaze?  A month’s cutting maybe to go to ashes within three minutes, and into wisps of smoke.  And the price of turf in this year gone wild out of measure, and it packed so roguish you could read the printed speeches on the paper through the sods you do be buying in the creel.

Staffy: I was saying myself not to meddle with it.  It is hurry is a worse friend than delay.

Damer: Where did you get those spuds are roasting there upon the hearth?

Ralph: Herself that brought them out from the sieve, thinking to make ready your meal.

Damer: My seed potatoes!  Samples I got from the guardians and asked in the shops and in stores till I’d gather enough to set a few ridges in the gardens would serve me through the length of the year!

Delia: Let you be satisfied so with your mouldy bit of loaf.
   (Breaks a bit from it and hands it to him.)

Damer: Do not be breaking it so wasteful!  The mice to have news there was as much as that of crumbs in the house, they would be running the same as chickens around the floor!

Ralph: Thinking to be comfortable to you she was, the way you would make us welcome from this out.

Damer: Which of ye is after meddling with my clock?

Delia: It was a full hour before its time.

Darner: It to be beyond its time, wouldn’t that save fire and candles sending me to my bed early in the night?  Leave down those boots! (Takes them from Staffy.) Is it that you are wearing out the uppers with scraping at them and scratching!  Is it to rob me ye are come into this place?

Delia: I tell you we only came in getting word that you were done and dying.

Damer: Ha!  Is it to think I was dying ye did?  Well, I am not.  I am not so easy quenched.  Strength and courage I have, to keep a fast grip of what I own.

Delia: Let you not be talking that way!  We are no grabbers and no thieves!