ther wor one or two ’at declared they’d seen a tail.  Then they held a long confab as to what they’d better do, an’ th’ wimmen sed they thowt it wor th’ duty o’ th’ poleese to goa in an’ tak him up whativver he wor; but th’ poleese didn’t see it, for, sed one on ’em, ‘If he’s th’ chap aw think he is he might tak us daan wol we wor tryin to tak him up.’  At last a chap says, ‘Aw’ve a gun, let’s shooit him.’  They all agreed wi’ that, an’ he went an’ fotched his gun.  Ther wor a gooid deeal o’ squarin abaat when he coom back, befoor he could get fair aim; but at last th’ poleese gate his bull’s eye on th’ bull’s eyes.  Bang! it went, an’ th’ boggard disappeared.  Owd Dawdles wor varry saand asleep, but when th’ gun went off he wakkened, an’ wonderin what could be to do, he pooled on his britches an’ ran daan stairs an’ oppened th’ door just as all th’ fowk wor comin raand to try an’ get in, for they hadn’t a back door.

‘We’ve peppered him his nut whoivver he is,’ sed th’ poleese.

‘Peppered whose nut?  What docs ta mean?’ sed Owd Dawdles.

‘We’ve shot th’ boggard i’th’ back kitchen.’

‘Boggard be hang’d!  Ther’s noa boggard i’th’ kitchen.  It’s nowt, nobbut a white bull cauf!  Hev yo all lost yor wit?’

Dawdles went to see what wor th’ matter an’ t’others followed him; but when they saw what a mistak they’d made, the mooast on ’em slink’d off for fear they wud hev to pay for some o’th’ damage.  Dawdles wor ommost ranty abaat it when he saw it ligged deead, but he said as little as he could, for his furst thowt wor hah mich brass he could mak on it as it war.  ‘Well,’ he sed, ’it’s deead enuff, soa ther’s nowt for it but to send for a butcher an’ hey it killed, for aw knaw it’ll be a bit ov as nice mait as ivver wor etten.’  Soa he fotched a butcher an’ had it skinned an’ dressed, an’ as he lukt at it he thowt it happen wodn’t turn aght so varry bad after all, an’ as th’ poleese paid for th’ winder, an’ th’ wife an’ th’ childer fettled up withaat sayin’ a word, he decided to be as quiet as he could an’ mak th’ best of his bargain.  Th’ fact is he thowt it had nobbut sarved it reight, considerin’ what a life it had led him th’ day befoor.  After a bit o’ braikfast he set off to see if he could find a customer for it, but th’ tale had flown all ovver th’ district, an’ whearivver he went he gate soa chaffed abaat it wol he wor fain to go back hooam.

‘Nah, lass,’ he sed to his wife, ‘aw’ve tried all ovver, an’ aw cannot sell a pund o’ that cauf, so ther’s nowt for it but to set to an ait it, for aw’m detarmined it shalln’t be wasted.’

‘Why, Dawdles, tha knows we can nivver ait it wol it’s sweet.’

’Aw dooan’t care whether it’s sweet or saar, it’ll have to be etten, soa tha’d better set to an’ salt it, for ther isn’t another aance o’ mait comes into this haase till that’s etten.’