“It’ll tinkle tip in a bit,” sed Billy an’ in a bit it did ‘tinkle up,’ for he’d set th’ haymoo o’ fire, an’ in abaght an haar, booath th’ lathe an’ all ‘at wor in it wor burned to th’ graand.  “Aw tell’d her aw’d do it,” he sed, “an’ aw’m nooan to be licked when aw start.”

Th’ poor owd woman wor sadly troubled, but what could shoo do, for what could ony body expect throo Silly Billy?

Shoo used to have some queer ways did Nancy; an’ one system o’ her’s wor allus to do iverything like clock wark.  When Billy wor having one ov his bits o’ sprees, an’ stoped away for two or three days, shoo allus made him his porrige ivery marnin, an’ if he worn’t thear to ait ’em shoo put’ em i’th’ cupbord, all in a row, an’ when he did come, he could’nt get a bite o’ owt else till he’d finished’ em all, soa he used to start at th’ oldest furst, an’ as th’ owd woman kept on makkin moor ivery mornin, it wor noa easy job to ovettak ’em, an’ be able to sit daan to a warm meal.  But like monny a one beside, altho’ he wor soa mich put abaght, it did’nt cure him; but when he’d had a doo, an’ been two or three days at cold poltices; as he call’d em, he used to say, “Niver noa moor!  If aw once get ovver this, yo’ll niver catch me at that bat agean!  It’s towt me a lesson ‘as this.”  An’ noa daat it had, but he varry sooin forgate it.

Ov coarse, when th’ brass wor all done, he had to work a bit, an’ aw recollect when he started business ov his own hook, fowk used to plague him sadly, an’ weel they mud, for he gate a donkey an panniers an’ started to sell puttates an’ greehs; but it soa happened, ’at one mornin he’d nobbut as monny puttates as ud fill one pannier, an’ as he put’ em i’ one it made it side heavy, soa he gate a lot o’ big stooans an’ put ‘em i’th’ tother to balance it a bit, an’ then he started off.  But he hadn’t gooan far when a chap met him an’ sed, “what are ta sellin, Billy?” “Aw’m hawkin puttates,” he sed.  “Why, what’s all thease stooans for, has ta started o’ leeadin balder?” “Noa,” he sed, (an’ then gave him a sly wink as mich as to say aw’l let thee into a secret), “but does ta see, aw’d nobbut as mich brass as ud buy one pannier full, soa aw wor foorced to put stooans it th’ tother to mak it balance.”  “Why, lumphead!” sed th’ chap, “couldn’t ta put one hauf into one, an’ tother into tother?” Billy scratched his heead for a minit an’ then sed, “e’ea! but aw see a better road nor that—­aw’l put hauf o’th’ stooans amang th’ puttates, an’ hauf o’th’ puttates, amang th’ stooans, an’ then aw’st be sure to have it.”  “Why but cannot ta mak ’em balance baght stooans, tup heead?” sed th’ chap.  “Ov coorse aw con! aw niver thowt o’ that,” sed Billy, an’ he started an’ squared ’em aght.  But he niver made mich aght o’ hawkin, for he could niver leearn th’ difference between six dozen dozens and hauf a dozen dozens, an fowk ’at wor sharper used to chait him mony a bit.