‘Just thee try a bit thisen,’ sed one, ’an then tha’ll see hah it is we want noa moor:  Soa aw tried a bit, an awl be blest if it wornt like gutty percha.  Awd some varry gooid teeth, but they could do nowt wi it.  Aw wor varry soary abaat it, but it couldn’t be helpt, an they all sed they’d nivver had a better drinkin’ i’ ther life, soa one or two helpt me to side th’ table an straighten up a bit, for ther husbands wor all ta coom an hey a smook an a drop o’ summat short after they’d eoom throo ther wark.

‘What mun aw do wi what’s left o’ this rooast cock?’ aw sed.

‘Give it to Dorothy’s tom-cat!’ sed Sam’s dowter.

‘If it gets its teeth fast it’ll pull its heead off!’ sed another.

‘An mich matters if it did,’ sed owd Sarah; ‘for it’s a plague i’ this fold, for yo can keep nowt aght ov it’s rooad.’

‘Aw think th’ best plan ud be,’ sed Sam, as he popp’d in his heead, ’for David an Dorothy to mak it up between’ em, an then we’ll all join an give’ em a weddin’ dinner, for awm sewer ther booath looansome, an as David’s hed noa luck wi his poultry, an Dorothy’s cat’s allus getten her i’ trouble, aw think nah as yo’ve swallered th’ poultry shoo should hang th’ cat, an then they could mak a fair start ith world, an aw believe ther isn’t a nayhor ’at willn’t gladly give ’em a lift.’

’This seemed to fall in wi ivverybody’s ideas except mine and Dorothy’s, an we sed nowt.  Th’ chaps coom in a bit, an a reight jolly lot they wor, an when th’ wimmen tell’d ’em what a toff owd customer th’ cock hed turned aght, they sed it ud be a gooid name for me, soa they kursened me Moorcock, an awve been known bi that name ivver sin.  Yo’d hardly think’ at Dorothy wod have agreed to become Dolly Drake, but shoo did, an th’ naybors wor as gooid as ther word, an when we gate wed we sat daan to as grand a dinner as ivver yo’d wish to see, an monny a little thing we have nah ‘at wor gein to us then towards haasekeepin’.

“But some way or other soa monny fowk gate to know abaat her tom-cat, an they used to come ta Iuk at it, far shoo wadn’t hang it, an they made sich gam abaat it wol we coom up to this quiet corner, pairtly to get aght oth gate on ’em, an pairtly becoss aw anlls liked th’ country best, soa here we are, just as yo see us, an here it’s varry likely we shall stop till one on us is fotched away in a black box.  Th’ owd tom-cat’s deead, an aw stuffed it, an yo can see it at top oth clock, so nah ’Yo know th’ reason awm called ‘Owd Moorcock.’”

“Ther’s nivver noa end to thy tongue when it gets runnin’,” sed Dolly:  “th’ supper’s been ready for long enuff, an if tha hasn’t tawkt him booath hungry an dry bi this time he’s able to stand it better nor me.”

We knocked th’ ashes aght ov us pipes an went in to supper.  It did’nt last long, an after thankin’ ’em for ther hospitality an information aw shook hands an bid ’em gooid neet, an it’ll be a long time befoor aw forget mi visit to, “Owd Moorcock.”