He wornt long afoor he fan him, soa he says, “Jim, aw want thee to do me a bit ov a faver if tha will.”  “Well, lad,” he sed, “awl do it if aw can awl promise thi; what is it tha wants me to do?” “Aw want to set off o’ that cheap trip tomorn ’at leaves here at four o’clock, an as awm a varry saand sleeper, aw want thee to wakken me abaat hauf-past three.”  “O, if that’s all, awl do that an’ welcome.”  “But tha knows,” sed Broddington, “its nooan sich a easy task as tha seems to fancy, for when awm i’ bed aw sleep like a stooan, an soa if aw dooant get up at once tha mun pawse th’ door wol aw do.”  “O, awl pawse it niver fear, awl wakken thi afoor aw leave off, tha may bet thi front teeth o’ that.”  “Well, aw darsay tha may, an awve made up mi mind to goa, but awm sich a sleepy-head ’at if aw get up its a thaasand to one aw shall goa to bed agean as sooin as iver tha turns thi back, so tha mun stop wol aw come daan stairs, an then tha shall tell me what tha thinks abaat some whisky ’at awve getten.”  “Leave that to me,” sed Jim, “awl bet tha’ll come daan afoor aw stur; if ther’s ony whisky inside awl find mi way to it.”  “That’s all right,” sed Broddington, “nah awl goa hooam an’ get to bed an’ have a few haars sleep afoor tha comes.”  Soa off he went hooam, but unfortunately he’d forgetten to tell th’ policeman ’at he’d flitted.

Well, old Clarkson stuck to his puttaty shop wol abaat ten o’clock an then when he’d getten shut up, he thowt he’d just goa an’ spend an’ haar or two wi a friend, so a as th’ wife wor aght oth seet he snig’d off, an’ it seems he faand ther company soa varry agreeable wol it wor ommost three o’clock when he landed hooam.  He knew what a blowin up he’d be sure to get, but as his wife liked a drop o’ whisky to goa to bed on, he bowt a bottle to tak hooam as a bit ov a sweetner.  He crept in as quiet as he could, for he thowt if th’ wife wor asleep it wad be a shame to wakken her.  He tuk his booits off an’ went ov his tiptooas into th’ bedroom.

“O, soa tha’s landed hooam agean has ta?  Couldn’t ta find ony body ’at ud have thi ony longer?  If awd been thee awd ha done t’other bit aght.  Awm capt ’at a wed chap ‘at’s a wife an’ childer at hooam rakin aght i’ this way!  But ther’s one thing certain, it’s noa daycent place wheer tha wor wol this time oth’ mornin!  Niver heed!  It willn’t last long, aw feel awm gettin waiker ivery day—­waiker ivery day; tha’ll nooan ha me soa long, an’ then tha can spree an’ drink thi fill.  Aw do, aw feel awm gettin waiker ivery day,” shoo sed agean.  But old Clarkson made noa reply, for he’d heeard th’ same tale monny a time befoor, an’ he knew if he sed he wor sooary, shoo’d say he wor a liar, an’ praich him a sarmon as long as his leg abaat what he’d do if he wor sooary; an’ if he sed he didn’t think shoo wor waiker, shoo’d say, “Noa, aw ail nowt; ther’s nivver any sympathy for me! aw mun slave mi soul aght for owt tha cares—­nasty unfeelin wretch!” Well, Jim didn’t spaik