nah?  It wor th’ same wi’ steam engines, it’s getten th’ same wi’ velosipeeds, an it’ll be th’ same wi’ princes, princesses, or owt else, as sooin as they get common, unless they’ve summat moor to depend on nor a grand title, fowk ull tak but little noatice.  We cannot all be fine fowk, but we may all be gooid fowk, if we try, an’ a gooid cart-driver ull be better nor a bad king at th’ finish.  Rich fowk ha troubles as weel as poor, but ther’s noa need for onybody to be troubled long; for if its summat they can’t help its fooilish to freeat, an’ if its summat they can help, why the deuce don’t they?

Its fooilish to freeat, but fowk will freeat sometimes.  Well, nivver heed!  ‘April shaars bring May flowers,’ soa we willn’t grumel if we get catched i’ one nah an’ then an’ get a gooid sooaking, for ther’s nowt i’th’ world bonnier nor flaars, even cauliflaars.  Ther’s lots o’ bonny things i’th’ world besides flaars; ther’s bonny words, an’ if fowk wod nobbut use ’em we should all get on a deeal better.  Aw remember once bein in a public haase, an’ ther wor two chaps sat quietly suppin ther pints o’ fourpenny, when all at once one o’ ther wives coom in, an her een fair blazed when shoo saw him.  ‘O, soa tha’rt here are ta?’ shoo began, ‘soa this is th’ way th’ brass gooas is it! tha nasty gooid-for-nowt!  Aw could like to smash thi face! sittin thear throo morn to neet sossin like a pig, an’ leavin me an’ th’ childer to do as we con!  Ha con ta fashion?  Tha desarves teein to a cart tail an’ hidin’ throo th’ streets, tha low-lived villain!  All th’ time shoo wor talkin shoo wor shakin her neive in his face, an’ when he could edge in a word he sed.  ’Aw’l tell thee what it is, this is nobbut mi third pint to-day, an’ aw wor just commin hooam, but tha can hook it, for aw shall come when aw’m ready, an net before, an’ that will’nt be yet a bit.’  Just wol they wor fratchin tother chap’s wife coom seekin him, an’ as sooin as shoo saw him shoo smiled an’ sed, ’O, aw’ve fun thi, come lad, aw want thee at hooam, awr little Jack has getten his new clogs on an’ he will’nt let me put him to bed till tha’s seen ’em, tha’ll be like to come.’  ‘Howd a minit,’ he sed, as he emptied his pint, then he went away wi’ her.  Tother stopt.  Soa mich for kindness.

An’ ther’s moor ways nor one o’ bein kind.  Nah, yo’ve oft heeard fowk say, ‘Niver cast a claot till May goas aght.’  That’s all varry gooid as far as regards top coits an’ flannel shirts an sich like.  But ther’s another thing, its just abaat th’ time for fowk to get new clooas an’ throw off th’ old ens; an’ aw’ve a word or two to say abaat that, for ther’s some poor fowk aw see sometimes ‘at cannot cast a claot; th’ fact is, they’ve nowt else to put on.  Ha monny scoor fowk do we meet as we walk abaat, ’ats hardly a rag to ther back, or aw should say they’ve nowt but rags, an’ that’s what prevents ’em havin a chonce to addle brass to buy ony fresh ens.  Ha monny have to creep aght o’th’ seet, into ony