‘Eea, aw browt a bit o’ mait an’ aw’ve left it daan stairs.’

He crept into bed as well as he could, an’ in a minit he wor asleep.  As th’ cauf had had nowt to ait nor drink all th’ day it did not feel varry oomfortable, an’ in a bit it went ‘B-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!’

‘Dawdles!  Dawdles!’ shoo screamed, an’ gave him a dig i’ th’ ribs ’at made him jump agean.

‘What’s th’ matter wi’ thee?’ he sed.

’Matter enuff!  Didn’t ta hear yond din?  Ther’s summat flaysome getten into th’ haase.’

’Aw heeard noa din; it’s thee ‘at’s been dreeamin.’

‘Dreeamin!  Aw’ve nooan been dreeamin!  Ger up an’ see what ther is to do!  Thear’s a boggard i’ th’ haase as sewer as aw’m here!’

‘Ne’er heed it! goa to sleep an’ it’ll nooan mell on thee.’

‘Sleep!  Awst sleep nooan!  Awst lig wakken o’ purpose to listen.  A’a! men havn’t a spark o’ feelin!  Thear, he’s snoarin agean.’

‘B-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!  B-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!’

‘Dawdles!  Dawdles! wakken, lad; do wakken!  It’s th’ dule hissen an’ nubdy else.  A’a! whativver mun we do, an’ ther hasn’t one o’ th’ childer been to th’ Sunday schooil for a fortnit!  Do get up lad, do!’

’Aw tell thee aw shalln’t get up as what it is; but aw hooap if he’s comed for onybody ‘at he’ll tak thee furst, an’ then aw can get a bit o’ sleep.’

‘Tha’rt a brute! an’ mi mother allus sed aw should find it aght!  But aw’m baan to have yond childer aght o’ bed.’

Up shoo jumpt an’ went to wakken ’em, an’ he wor soa worn aght ’at he dropt off to sleep agean.  Sich a hullaballoo as ther wor i’ that shop when all th’ eight childer wor up, yo nivver heeard, for th’ cauf kept at it, an’ ther worn’t one i’ th’ lot dar goa to see what it wor.  At last they threw up th’ chamer winder and skriked wi’ all ther might.  Th’ neighbours wor up in a crack, an’ th’ poleese coom runnin to see what ther wor to do.

‘Ther’s a boggard i’ th’ haase!’ they cried aght.  ’Do see what it is, poleeseman, if yo pleeas.’

But as th’ door wor lockt, an’ nooan on ’em dar goa daan stairs to oppen it, ther wor noa way to do but to braik a winder pane, soa th’ poleese smashed one ank stuck his heead an’ his lantern in an’ lewkt all raand, but ov coorse he could see nowt.  But just as he wor baan to back aght th’ cauf gave another ‘B-o-o-h!’ Daan dropt his lantern inside, an’ away flew his heead aghtside, an’ all th’ fowk cluthered raand him an’ ax’d him what he’d seen.

‘Aw’ve seen nowt,’ he sed, ‘but aw’ve heeard summat.’

One o’ th’ childer upstairs shaats aght, ‘Aw believe it’s i’th’ back kitchen.’  An’ away they all ran raand to see if they could see it thear.  Another poleese had come up, soa he gate his lantern an’ held it cloise to th’ winder, an’ ther wor sich a skrike an’ a skutter as yo nivver heeard nor saw.  Ther wor noa mistak abaat it nah, for they’d all seen it; them ‘at hadn’t seen th’ een had seen th’ horns, an’