Shoo did as shoo wor tell’d, an’ shoo stew’d th’ heead an’ made some cauf-heead broth, an’ rare an’ nice it wor.  Next day they had a rooast, an’ th’ childer sed they wished ther fayther’d buy another cauf when that wor done.  It went on varry weel for th’ furst wick, but towards th’ end o’th’ second they’d rayther ha’ seen a boggard walk into th’ haase nor another piece o’ that cauf walk on to th’ table.  But Dawdles wor as gooid as his word, an’ long befoor it wor done he declared it wor th’ cheapest mait he ivver bowt.  But aitin soa mich o’ one sooart o’ stuff seemed to have a strange-effect o’th’ childer, for they fair seem’d to grow gaumless an’ th’ hair o’ ther heead stood up like a caah toppin, an’ Dawdles hissen wor terrified if one on ’em complained ov a pain i’ ther heead, for fear th’ horns should be buddin’.

‘Nah, then, hah long are ta baan to praich,’ sed one o’th’ chaps ’at had been lissenin’ to this tale, ’does ta know ’at it’s ommost twelve o’clock?’

‘Why, nivver heed!  It’s th’ last day i’th’ year, an’ we’st all have halliday to-morn.  Aw havn’t tell’d yo hauf o’th’ queer tricks he’s noated for yet.  Did yo ivver hear tell abaat that umbrella o’ his ’at he lost at Bradforth market?’

‘Noa an’ we dooan’t want to hear ony moor to neet,’ they sed, as they gate up an’ knockt th’ ash aght o’ ther pipes, ’tha’s tell’d us quite enough for a Kursmiss stoary, an’ tha mun save th’ rest for th’ New Year.’

Soa they all trudged off to ther hooams to get a warm supper an’ let ther wives sympathise wi’ ’em, for havin’ to tramp an’ tew wol past twelve o’clock at neet to mak a bit ov a livin’ for them ’at wor caar’d warm an’ comfortable at hooam.

Property Huntin’.

Ther’s soa monny different sooarts o’ fooils ’at it’s hard to tell which is th’ warst, an’ th’ best on us do fooilish things at times.  It’s varry fooilish for a young chap at’s a paand a wick to live at th’ rate o’ twenty-five shillin’, for hahivver clivver he may be at figures he’ll be sure to find hissen in a hobble befoor long.  Aw once knew a chap they called “Gentleman Dick:”  he wor nobbut a warp dresser, but to see him ov a neet, when he wor donned up an’ walking throo th’ streets twirlin’ his cane, yo’d ha’ taen him to be a gentleman’s son at th’ varry leeast.  Fowk ‘at knew him sed he had to live o’ mail porrige all th’ wick, an’ a red yearin for a treeat on a Sunday, to enable him to get new clooas, an’, as it wor, he owed soa monny tailors’ bills ’at when he heeard a knock at th’ door he allus had to luk aght o’th’ chamer winder to see who it wor befoor he dar oppen it.  But whativver he had to put up wi he nivver grummeld, an’ Setterdy neet an Sundy wor th’ time ’at he enjoyed hissen to his heart’s content.  One day when he wor aght dooin the grand, he met wi a young woman i’th’ train gooin to Briggus, an’ he showed her soa mich attention wol shoo tuk quite a fancy to him, an’ when he ax’d her if he might see her hooam, shoo blushed an’