“This is th’ hat yo lent me, for aw’ve nivver touched it sin aw set off, an’ if its changed color aw can’t help it—­if it weant do for a burrin it’ll do for a weddin.”

“Dooant tell me nooan o’ thi lies!  Awm ommast fit to give thi a gooid hidin whear tha stands!”

“Yo’d better think twice abaat that!”

“Aw will’nt think once,” he sed, an’ made a rush at him but Joa held his fist aght, an’ Rodger ran agean it wi’ sich a force wol he flew back an’ messured his whole length ith’ street.

“What’s th’ meanin o’ that,” he sed, as he sam’d hissen up,—­“Isn’t it enuff, thinks ta, to goa on th’ spree an’ ommost kill a horse, but tha mun come an’ start o’ illusin me?  But awl mak thi smart for this as sewer as my name is what it is!”

“Aw nivver touched yo,” sed Joa, “all aw did wor to hold mi’ neive aght; an’ if yo had’nt run agean it i’ sich a hurry it wod’nt ha harmed yo.”

“Awl let thi see whether it wod’nt or net!  Goa into th’ haase an’ change them clooas, an’ nivver let mi’ see thi face agean!”

Joa wor as anxious to change his clooas an’ get off hooam as Rodger wor to be shut on him, for his shirt wor wet throo wi’ sweeatin, an’ his shoulder had th’ skin off wi’ thrustin, to say nowt abaat th’ knocks he’d getten when he tummeld off th’ heears.  He didn’t loise any time, an’ when he coom back Rodger had just oppened th’ heears an’ fun all th’ stooans.  “What the degger’s th’ fooil been doin?” he sed, as he held a Ieet to luk inside.  “What’s ta fill’d th’ heears wi’ stooans for, lumpheead?  Why, ther’s a looad big enuff for a elephant.”

“They’re just as yo put ’em in,” sed Joa, “aw nivver touched ony on ’em; an’ if yo’ll gie me mi wage awl be off hooam.”

“Here’s two shillin! goa an’ buy a rooap to hang thisen, for tha arn’t fit to live!”

“When awm deead yo’ll happen bury me for nowt, considerin ’at aw’ve worked for yo?”

“Eea, an’ welcome!  Th’ sooiner an’ th’ better!”

“Awm varry mich obliged to yo, an’ awl send yo word when yore wanted, but dooant be in a hurry.—­Ther’s nowt like takkin yer time.  Gooid neet.”

As that wor th’ last job Joa ivver hed, Abergil did’nt mak up her mind to have him, but that does’nt trouble him, for he says “Gettin wed is a job a chap can do ony time, an’ ther’s noa need to be in a hurry.”

His mother’s ommost fast what to do wi’ him, an’ hardly a day passes but what shoo axes him “if he ivver meeans to get owt to do?” an’ he allus says, “Awm thinkin abaat it.  Give a chap a bit o’ time!  What’s yor hurry?”

Ha Owd Stooansnatch’s Dowter gate Wed.

He wor a reight hard-hearted sooart ov a chap wor owd Stooansnatch; ther wor hardly a child ‘at lived i’th’ seet o’th’ smook ov his chimley but what ran away when they saw him coming, an’ ther mothers, when they wanted to freeten ’em a bit used to say, ’aw’ll fotch owd Stooansnatch if tha doesn’t alter.’